Violet lips touch inside her pale
Slender wrist.
From these puncture holes, draw forth
A blue-black sledge of blood.
So, Spit the poison out
Hissing on white sheets.
And lie back, now
Rest, tucked in the violent, bruised
meditations of these forever fictional
hot, wet, sweating
fevered dreams
that pseudo lovers
lived and ****** in.
cradle hopes and gropings
in the dark, so everyone can see.
Fumbling zippers, fickle-fingers
Trace up and down the one-size-fits all
Manikins of their bodies.
Choking intuition out with
Rouged lips and bruised thighs.
Somewhere, a doll cries.
Cracked ceramics, lap with tongue against
The creased spine and
Thumping mounting moans of the
Sows in the fields
Echo sorrows held in harrowed hearts.