#canines - Hello Poetry

Solicitation by Michael R. Burch He comes to me out of the shadows, acknowledging my presence with a tip of his hat, always the gentleman, and his eyes are on my eyes like a snake’s on a bird’s— quizzical, mesmerizing. He ***** his head as though something he heard intrigues him (though I hear nothing) and he smiles, amusing himself at my expense; his words are full of desire and loathing, and though I hear, he says nothing that I understand. The moon shines—maniacal, queer—as he takes my hand and whispers Our time has come . . . and so we stroll together along the docks where the sea sends things that wriggle and crawl scurrying under rocks and boards. Moonlight in great floods washes his pale face as he stares unseeing into my eyes. He sighs, and the sound crawls slithering down my spine, and my blood seems to pause at his touch as he caresses my face. He unfastens my dress till the white lace shows, and my neck is bared. His teeth are long, yellow and hard. His face is bearded and haggard. A wolf howls in the distance. There are no wolves in New York. I gasp. My blood is a trickle his wet tongue embraces. My heart races madly. He likes it like that. Published by Dowton Abbey, Aesthetically Pleasing Vampires, Into the Unknown, Since Halloween is Coming, and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords: vampire, werewolf, supernatural, New York, gentleman, blood, neck, teeth, canines, wolves, desire, loathing, moon, snake, bird, mesmerizing, reptilian

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Apr 13, 2020

Apr 13, 2020 at 11:31 PM UTC

michael-r-burch

Solicitation

Solicitation by Michael R. Burch He comes to me out of the shadows, acknowledging my presence with a tip of his hat, always the gentleman, and his eyes are on my eyes like a snake’s on a bird’s— quizzical, mesmerizing. He ***** his head as though something he heard intrigues him (though I hear nothing) and he smiles, amusing himself at my expense; his words are full of desire and loathing, and though I hear, he says nothing that I understand. The moon shines—maniacal, queer—as he takes my hand and whispers Our time has come . . . and so we stroll together along the docks where the sea sends things that wriggle and crawl scurrying under rocks and boards. Moonlight in great floods washes his pale face as he stares unseeing into my eyes. He sighs, and the sound crawls slithering down my spine, and my blood seems to pause at his touch as he caresses my face. He unfastens my dress till the white lace shows, and my neck is bared. His teeth are long, yellow and hard. His face is bearded and haggard. A wolf howls in the distance. There are no wolves in New York. I gasp. My blood is a trickle his wet tongue embraces. My heart races madly. He likes it like that. Published by Dowton Abbey, Aesthetically Pleasing Vampires, Into the Unknown, Since Halloween is Coming, and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords: vampire, werewolf, supernatural, New York, gentleman, blood, neck, teeth, canines, wolves, desire, loathing, moon, snake, bird, mesmerizing, reptilian

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When I first saw the moon- A beacon in the night Pulling Earth’s tides Watching over us So far away- I understood why Wolves howl their praise to her

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Apr 9, 2020

Apr 9, 2020 at 6:00 PM UTC