athene May 2015
escape the deluge of grays
supposed hallowed streets
pavement, machines
splashing of rain being choked
out by tires squealing
no meaning here
just a spare soul outside
find it by rejecting
everything lit by a screen
athene May 2015
my eyes travel the same roads
up your well-toned body
and each time the pathes change
you grip me firmly, your hot
breath fanning the nape of my neck
you are tip to tip with me
lips to lips with me
ensouling the night with our endless
passion
i am in love with your rocket
athene Apr 2015
muted waters
curtains of ice clouds
silvered rivers
hymns of shivering
hushed waves over stone
a shadow brushes
the cold edges here
under violet skies
gnarled boughs
twist my soul into roots
athene Apr 2015
i like self-destructive girls
ticking time bombs
bong-faced, little things
to work for with max rewards
medicine love lubricate
to letting all this gore down
my throat
athene Mar 2015
i was just a boy
when your hands
chopped me up
and left rivers
of Ancient blood
create a
confluence down my neck
my groin was the freshet
my father told you
and i were meant
to be together since
you always had surgical hands
with the precision
of a knife thrower
each knife cut away my mold
and i shed into a new
identity
athene Nov 2014
how should i be the one to describe her everlasting perfection--
her perfect breasts, her vanilla skin, the amethyst veins that ran
rivers down her perfect groin, the fiery sex we had and the mayhem
ensued, i was absolutely taken and i wanted the whole world
to know. run on sentences is all i could construct tongue-wise,
and she still shown like saturn and aurora laced with jupiter dust
trailed when she danced along the sidewalks next to me.
we were walking, i was walking, she flew up and caught the sun
for me yet it was too bright to behold, i could not be apart of this
empyrean sight i wanted so badly to have the wings to fly to her
but gravity brought me down
athene Nov 2014
she had a yellow swing skirt on
and it swished and shown the sun
upon her pale white skin.

her lips tasted like fine wine
and it wished and won the sun
upon her teeth in sin.
athene Oct 2014
X
the sleepy hung corpse;
waning roseate, veined vessel
tumid, ancient, of loss of culture
introduced to the society of living
mixes in pearl skin and stupor
colliding curvatures of river banks
met in failure, met in marshes
withering boiled bodies trying to shout
of becoming who i am
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