Ghosts hide behind her eyes
Joyfully burning in violet flames
They make her chest quake
And her hips shimmy-shake
As she tosses and turns in her sleep
In the morning she bursts into the daylight
Fleeing the urgent shadows of the night
And spins into the wind
Which dances around her body
And wishes it weren’t invisible
As it glides across her skin
She wallows amidst the verdurous grass
Bathing in the eager warmth of the sun
That permeates her sheath of clothes
To the soft shimmer of flesh underneath
Her dark curtain of lashes flutters then closes
As she breathes deeply while her mind floats elsewhere
She dreams of lace around her wrists and
Rubies falling from her fingertips
She wears a mollifying grin
On her tender strawberry lips
Surrendering to the rapture within
The earth splits open
It craves to reclaim her
In all her ripe and resplendent glory
Her fingers curl themselves in the dirt
Violet eyes fly open
A fierce gnawing hunger
Has been ignited in the pit of her belly
There is a pomegranate tree in the distance
Its branches heavy and voluptuous with fruit
On lithe legs she dashes to the tree
Plucking one gently from its cradle
Once broken open
Its swollen vermilion seeds gush forth
To fall about her feet
With a sigh she bites into the milky white meat
Sticky sweet juice cascades past her lips
And along the curve of her throat to tinge the skin pink
She is filled to the brim
Inflamed and engorged
She blushes
And lets the ravished pomegranate tumble to the ground
There is laughter on the wind
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
Ghosts hide behind her eyes
Joyfully burning in violet flames
They make her chest quake
And her hips shimmy-shake
As she tosses and turns in her sleep
In the morning she bursts into the daylight
Fleeing the urgent shadows of the night
And spins into the wind
Which dances around her body
And wishes it weren’t invisible
As it glides across her skin
She wallows amidst the verdurous grass
Bathing in the eager warmth of the sun
That permeates her sheath of clothes
To the soft shimmer of flesh underneath
Her dark curtain of lashes flutters then closes
As she breathes deeply while her mind floats elsewhere
She dreams of lace around her wrists and
Rubies falling from her fingertips
She wears a mollifying grin
On her tender strawberry lips
Surrendering to the rapture within
The earth splits open
It craves to reclaim her
In all her ripe and resplendent glory
Her fingers curl themselves in the dirt
Violet eyes fly open
A fierce gnawing hunger
Has been ignited in the pit of her belly
There is a pomegranate tree in the distance
Its branches heavy and voluptuous with fruit
On lithe legs she dashes to the tree
Plucking one gently from its cradle
Once broken open
Its swollen vermilion seeds gush forth
To fall about her feet
With a sigh she bites into the milky white meat
Sticky sweet juice cascades past her lips
And along the curve of her throat to tinge the skin pink
She is filled to the brim
Inflamed and engorged
She blushes
And lets the ravished pomegranate tumble to the ground
There is laughter on the wind
Born out of my love of mythology and metaphors.
And the answer is yes, I have a predilection towards going sans-punctuation.
Request permission to use this poem