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Dec 2012
The leech, he slithers in hot blood, unnoticed, ***** thoughts washed
Up in waves of serotonin, lust, licking his sickly sweet fingers allllll over you.
Love-struck, heart-throb cupid mask, pouring honey over gall, lipstick on a pig, love sows flower words,
Rose-petal roads to your heart (bed). Slick trickster, hid even from me, creeped
In through our first hug, but quick to gain momentum, take the wheel. Feed my starving eyes,
My fingers, skin, flesh (***), a little step here, a little there, shuffling stealthily to home.
Engorged now, oozing, perusing, the feast is all empty plates and ***** knives
Looking up, eyes burning, through calm-surfaced quicksand,
from now-plumbed black, brackish depths. He casts aside your husk, your syrupy soul slurped,
even the joke of flowers wilts now. The core's poison, the cake is a lie, his bulge
my curved stomach is bloated with wriggling maggots, protruding, exuding slime, rot.
And I'm still hungry.
The Knave of Spades
Written by
The Knave of Spades  Issaquah, WA
(Issaquah, WA)   
970
   kara lynn bird
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