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D u b t a i l
thrash
the electric pace
beating out the pattern
in haste
clothes strewn
skins of chill awakening
the dark lash like a bow
bending a water
tear
and running
down the curvature
of expectancy
down the throat of
waiting
wet dark pupil
we are mirrors of hunger
lavish egos
lost
like ghosts on passing buses
a smile
curving in the dark dimples
rushing off
rushing near
the hot kick
of dare
and brilliant nails
shinning fresh
on staid ankles
on velvet perfumed
scenes
in mines of golden
dreams like fleece
we are wolves
attired in our sheep
carrying the fire
while the waiting
sleep
Editing stage:
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Comments
brittle light
Tue, 2014-06-17 01:07
A quicky delight
...players or not
when the fire is hot....!
I like what I think it says
even if I'm off base, I like it
the action swift, the senses lift
the mental drift, rewarding
thanks,
Al
Esker
Tue, 2014-06-17 10:17
magnetism of calamity..
this is true....
eightmenout
Fri, 2014-06-20 00:08
awakening
awakening
to the howling
wolves as it may be
baying the night
to let down her hair
knock, knock, knocking
of wood
distant
then near
then distant
again near
rising and fading
sounds
animals scratching
clawing
trying to tear the walls down
teeth sinking deep
into counting sheep
to devour the lust
I now lust for
rolling over
to a gentle snore
that shrugs the passion away
like a robe
falling off her shoulders
I have not written much lately. Not much at all. It was good that I found this and a tiny bit of inspiration. thank you
Scott