Violent clangs echo
From the TV,
And the Bride is a
Vengeful gazelle,
Galloping forth and
eviscerating the
ones who stand in
her path to---

        “**** Bill again?
                 Is that all you do when I’m gone? Snort
         Coke, get high, lounge back
         And watch this ******* ****?”

The cigarette burns hot in her fingers,
Smoke sighing from her lungs and
She smiles silently. Plum lips pucker
And one hand beckons him forth,
the other raising a silent finger.

Skin tight yellow and black
Hugs her curves and she
triumphs, golden goddess
Reclaiming herself in a
Blazen trail of ******
Revenge.

      “Come on, I’ve been gone and now
        I’m here. I’ve missed ******* you
       And hearing your pretty little moans.”

Ashes on her pant leg, feet flex and
She rises up, eyes fixed on the screen.
Cat eyes smirk and she takes his hand,
Dark bob razor sharp as she dreams
About the day she’ll wield the katana.

Supple peaks
Where the Earth swells,
Shapely curves straddling
Land, soft and rounded yet
Mighty and tall.
I’m breathless;
I want the mountains
To swallow me whole.

My bottom blossoms
When I sit atop the
Bed and fine red lines
Run down its sides.
If this is the marking
Of a budding woman,
Then let me proudly
Display my vines.

They say,
"Your body is a temple."
Does that mean
I need to purge
my self out of it?

How distasteful you are,
With your sundry splotches
and jarring imperfections.
Oh, you taunt me so!
Whether your anathemas
are reflected through the mirror or my own eyes.
Oh horrible, hateful, heinous thing!
I cannot bear to stare any longer.
How sickly your color is--
A pallid yellow, like one giant bruise
That has budded and blossomed
In some unnaturally grotesque fashion.
My blood boils, my pulse races
And I raise my weapons to fight--
Two talons--claws honed to perfection.
Be gone, you wretched scab!
And so I tear, scratching furiously,
Until no more of you is left.
The blood is stuck beneath my fingertips,
Or what is left of them.
My sinews tremble, ****** and bare,
As the last of my wallpaper
Is ripped from my bones.

They inhale the herb
Breathing out love
Lost in a peace-filled haze
For smoke is where
They find their shelter
A battle cry
A new war
Against the one that’s going on
Where smoke parades about
The flaming forest
And the people
Are coughing and dying
In this cloud of destruction
Though smoky still
They can discern
The promise of victory.

I am a mermaid but you can’t see it
I have no fins but I gleam and glisten
Under streams and showerheads
My skin glows, it’s soft to the touch
Caressed by the water
Oh so shiny and slippery
against the light
I’m usually granted no such embrace
For only water kisses the skin and holds the soul --
Air, so light and plentiful, is but the touch of a finger
I am greater than what I seem
I traverse rough seas
I captivate, I navigate
In the porcelain tub
And I am a mermaid -- but you can’t see it