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girl diffused Oct 2017

Wolves hide among the fragrant flowers
Skulk, stalk, pounce, and bite into their prey
****** their maws, their canine, their fang
Don the fleece of the white sheep
Rip out the innards
Garbed in white
Draped like a cloak of purity

Wolves hide in cathedrals
Stalk among the pews
Furs streaked with blood, coated
Defile sanctity
Impregnate
Virginity with something vile
Dark, putrid, and false

She sees the wolf in you
Hears it in words that you utter
Sees it in words that you write
Drunk, sober, aware, unaware
Smells the blood on your maw
Smells the pennies in your breath
Faint, odorous
*
Wolves like you
Hiding in fleece
This came as a direct result of something I experienced last night. It shook me internally to my core and the culmination of those words, the emotions that stirred up as a result, culminated in this piece.

The wolf is Man. Not every man. It can be a singular man for a woman or even a man or anyone, you can change the gender of the "she" to whomever you like. The wolf remains the same. The "fleece" is a covering, a disguise, a shroud of "purity" and deceit that it/He disguises himself in.

The "cathedral" is a place of reverence and worship. I took the age-old adage of "your body is a temple" and turned it into something more historically significant and possibly controversial (for those of us who are iffy on religion. I am actually, but I respect those are who spiritual and religious. I respect their beliefs and stances). The cathedral is Woman's body. It is seen as a place that can be tarnished or worshiped within. It can be ransacked and defiled or vandalized.

IN any case, the poem has its themes of purity and Sin. There aren't many religious undertones here. It's just the slimy and even disturbing feelings a man can conjure up with words. It defines what a woman may experience when she's even revered by someone that presents themselves in one way but is truthfully like a majority of "wolves" out there. They're there for blood and prey.
Step 1: *don’t
a short one for this week; pretty good message though in terms of story of my life kind of poems
girl diffused Oct 2017
If she were to touch you
                taste you
                hear you
                observe you
Fingers tentative
Mouth pliable
Ears fine-tuned
Sight keen
You would taste
like stardust and glass
like galaxies and rust.
i do feel a little dead today.
it's a little harder.
girl diffused Oct 2017
Sleek dark hair
Highlights of auburn, color of fall
Stern lips
A look of austerity in the dark russet eye
Skin lighter than my own
The smaller wrist
Large eyes
Faint deepening crow's feet
Nursing knowledge
Small, short, slight, petite, and strong
Maternal vanguard
Matriarchal
Beautiful and earthly
Scorpionic elusiveness
Her unused canvas
Frequent Homegoods purchased
Shifts decor in the livingroom like a Feng Shui practitioner
Laughs at the absurdity of modern horror movies
Smells like bath wash and too much perfume
Smells of my childhood
Smells of my innocence
Paperbacks of Hugo and Austen in boxes in the basement
Paperbacks of The Symposium and a biography of Marx in the basement
Secretly likes to cook
Culinary explorer
Gastronomically open
Culinary door opener
Very little circle of friends
Outspoken
Austerity on the small mouth
Austerity in the small mouth
Conviction in her voice
Soft graphite in her voice
Has a lisp sometimes
The slight overbite(?)
Immigrant parent
Unnaturalized citizen
Reminds me of fall
Reminds me of everything
Reminds me of very little at once
Life-teacher, one of many
Protective
Over-protective
Pushy
The way her hand moves on her tablet
The way her voice sounded during a lecture when I was a child
The way she used to hug
Closet full of shoes and clothes she rummages through when she's going out
Meticulous cleaner
The way her voice sounded when she tried to make sense of me
The way her voice sounds
...
List poetry. An experiment in profiling a close loved one.
  Oct 2017 girl diffused
Fred
I hurt you,
because I want you
to love me.
I desert you,
because I want to
be chased.
I know I cause you pain,
I want to be your love's teary stain.
And when your fever keeps you up at night,
let my skin be your strap to bite.
All these things I do,
really,
I want to hurt
for you.
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