a praying mantis,
comes dressed up as a green leaf;
prayer or duping?

We're disingenuous riff-raff,
leaden eyelids at half-mast --
Leggy and skirted,
we're skirting scraped knees
and toting battle-axes.

He loves me not

She sits naked on the floor
Picking songs and sipping
On her warm beer

I smoke by the window
At a new lover's distance
Watching her intermittently

The city is still
It's 3a.m.
Our bodies
Are spent on each other
The bedsheets still wet
With our sweat

After the fire
We separated
Into component pieces

She combed her hair
In the mirror
As I poured cold water

Over myself
And ******
With the bathroom door
Left open
My ****
Still a little hard

I could hear her sing
As I toweled myself
Watched the last of the water

Fall into the drain
And for the first time
I could remember

I did not have to try
There was no rush
There was nowhere

I needed to be

She sits a high seat
The Duchess of Dawn,
A sequin of silver
To skein of silk sewn.

She twinkles on peacock,
The hue of the haze,
The moon, just a ghost,
Bows down at her gaze.

He swears His fealty,
His heart she has won,
But she will bend knee
To the face of the sun!

A figment of dreamers,
A tear we all cry,
A rhinestone of crystal
On the face of the sky.

She has a light fragrance,
To her scent we are drawn.
But she's as a vapor,
Here... and then gone.
Her name is Venus

The Duchess of Dawn.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/18/2018