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Aristotle Apr 2023
I hear there’s no flesh in heaven. But I stopped worshipping the moon because its swell glares like a cruel rendering of your throat, and why should I kneel before a cold imitation when you exist flushed and undimmed for revering.

I heard (thought, once) that the carnal and the holy are indistinguishable in their earth-bound forms. in darkness your throat rises serpentine, devilish beneath the flesh. The night wails; isn’t the moon just the whitened fingertip of Michealangelo’s god, pale with aching in its strain towards Adam?

The blood moon tempts: a tender body, the forbidden fruit, and your mouth trembles in wanting. I’d like to think your throat would gleam in devouring, tossed back defiantly beneath the glaring moonlight; holiness only reflecting off the carnal; god, forsaken.

-Ari
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
Hope you choke on words
Lies you spit so easily
Crammed down your own throat
Just a touch of violence for you to spice things up haha
Jordan Gee Aug 2020
Snakes won't cross a braided rope,
so I take the leads up from around my bed.
I remember her face-
bright and
smiling beside mine
white as if she had just shed a skin
and the dunes grow now over the urchin barrens,
a desert in the sea.
I can peer beneath the 3rd lid
my heart claws at my throat,
allergy tight from the judging shade of
green.
The 3rd lid opens over the Taklamakan,
Tibetan horns sound so old -
ancient vagus nerve endings in my throat but my heart claws them away.
Snakes won't cross a braided rope but
her eyes are green and we lay a
cottonmouth skin across her womb.
All I see are diamonds on the ring fingers.
#matthewmconaughey
Catherine Bailey Jul 2020
Your nectar trickled down
It’s flavour was renown
The sweet tasting caramel
Slowly chipped at my will

It’s damped my mouth
And pretend I had drought
It spilled its honey substance
And did my longing, justice

It painted my tongue
And between my gums
Lastly it started to float
Down my aching throat

It crawled down my pipe
And made the tube ripe
But it’s objective was my heart
As it would slowly rip me apart

So before it could continue
I started to swallow it whole
Making sure your loving covet
Stayed at the bottom of my stomach
mothwasher Jul 2020
the tree in my throat started budding, i coughed up flowers

shaped like ******* and my doctor

called the government

now they want to sever my neck, count my rings and guess my age

i am afraid the sap will start seeping and i am afraid

that you are committed to the idea of putting your ear against the hole

the government is calling again, this time of an alien kind

they are also curious

i offered them my toes, but only soil drained from my shoes when removed

i guess you’re going to have to sweep more often

dirt, petals, and alien footprints
Maniacal Escape Jun 2020
I see a boy underneath the bin
He prays desperately to a deaf god
Looming over I can smell his despair
Rocking back and forth in holy existence
Your prayer won’t save you now little duckling
Say I to the rat
But on he chants, on and on to gods and clouds and demons
He names them all, one by one endlessly chanting his desperate canon
Where are your gods now?
Do they serve you a merciful end?
I ask as I slash his throat.
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