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"chilviarous" poems
clock-tick, latch-click, footsteps darting down the stairs-- you're...gone! ****** Fingertips of night smudge and smear their ebony gloss streaks Down dusty, grimy glass-- Swallowing your spectral image In the glazed glow of neon-rainbow billboards. A twenty-first century Lancelot, you don your callousness And self-loathing like a tarnished suit of armor-- On a chilviarous quest to save two-hundred-dollar Nocturne Ladies From drug-primed pimps.... T h e m s e l v e s..... But--n o t from you! **** Passions fire, and my love, follow you Through myriads of abandoned, midnight alleyways, And already I have squandered the ghosts Of your deceptive warmth, and poisoned promises. The heaviest of down comforters Fail to cease my chills And I am as bloodless As before your first lethal kisses. Your inevitable absence is the deep burn of frostbite, Your eventual return an addiction-- The relief insatiable neuralgia-- I c r a v e your presence. Your vanishing is like slicing away strips of my skin-- The carving, and cutting release a chronic, arctic cold That confronts me from within my crystalized soul.... I freeze, and die, e a c h time you leave. ***** From within the hollow of our bed The mist of a heroine-induced haze rises-- Enfolded in the memory of your lingering lust, I slip between the sweat-soaked sheets, and pain-drenched pillows.... Longing...promising...hoping...that I'll be gone--t o m o r r o w..... Waiting...bargaining with the darkness...listening to..... clock-tick, latch-click, your footsteps stumbling up the stairs.............
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
celtic-lass
L E T H A L I T Y
clock-tick, latch-click, footsteps darting down the stairs-- you're...gone! ****** Fingertips of night smudge and smear their ebony gloss streaks Down dusty, grimy glass-- Swallowing your spectral image In the glazed glow of neon-rainbow billboards. A twenty-first century Lancelot, you don your callousness And self-loathing like a tarnished suit of armor-- On a chilviarous quest to save two-hundred-dollar Nocturne Ladies From drug-primed pimps.... T h e m s e l v e s..... But--n o t from you! **** Passions fire, and my love, follow you Through myriads of abandoned, midnight alleyways, And already I have squandered the ghosts Of your deceptive warmth, and poisoned promises. The heaviest of down comforters Fail to cease my chills And I am as bloodless As before your first lethal kisses. Your inevitable absence is the deep burn of frostbite, Your eventual return an addiction-- The relief insatiable neuralgia-- I c r a v e your presence. Your vanishing is like slicing away strips of my skin-- The carving, and cutting release a chronic, arctic cold That confronts me from within my crystalized soul.... I freeze, and die, e a c h time you leave. ***** From within the hollow of our bed The mist of a heroine-induced haze rises-- Enfolded in the memory of your lingering lust, I slip between the sweat-soaked sheets, and pain-drenched pillows.... Longing...promising...hoping...that I'll be gone--t o m o r r o w..... Waiting...bargaining with the darkness...listening to..... clock-tick, latch-click, your footsteps stumbling up the stairs.............
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