Yes, so amazingly good of you to catch that!!!!!
Just so know it this an older poem that I just rewrote with an attempt to include all the ideas you have been so kind to share with me. Less chaos, consistency in mood. paired down a bit. I like it, it works!
I Have you to thank!!! Please never be dissuaded from giving me your earnest feedback and excuse the push back. Its merely me having the difficulty in integrating after I've been thrown off a bit

come on then.... show me your vampire

Hugs Z

Now I'm a wolf in wolf's clothing and my dear you've turned out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing feigning rainbows and sunrise Haa haa haaa

Waiting For You

we are waiting for you
exiled
hungry with lust
wanting you shimmering in blood and cum
like red and creamy white ribbon ornaments
so that every suffering makes you whimper and simper

be brave little girl
it will hurt like Dracula's kiss
pains pleasure
pleasures pain
enough
spice to burn
enough
addiction to beg
every sting and gleaming bite
an orgasm

perfectly sexacuted
until your body gives out
like a fluttering thrush

and then we will take you at last
like a million black toothed moons

:)

Like what kind of false move? Is this an admonishment, Is there danger? Are you angry?
Apparently you feel distressed and that my writing is a transgression

So Sorry IRiz Perhaps you prefer some limits and I assure I will abide

PLS forgive the misunderstanding I thought my poem had crossed the line with you and was distressed
I've been excommunicated from other sites on occasion because of the territory and content of my poems; i.e. developing a few scars along the way. I'm so glad everything is in fact balanced even if asymmetrical. And yes IRiz tenderness and heat bring danger. Even if only virtual it makes the heart
go deep deep the path steep steep

VOYAGE

i voyage through your soul
draped with passions.
in hope,
between flames
driven by thoughts of phantoms
minaret of memories
and i speak to you of eternity
my heart a difficult shape warms to the curve of you eyes
the sky shivers silver
i’m always close to death

an evaporating sun
swallowed by a shadow
in a vast dark sea
being undone like a little virgins dress

the universe
a cradle of dead leaves
i am all obstinacies and troubled sleep
a stone among stones
"love is man incomplete"
and i have tears no one wants

I wrote this in July 2017
Thank you IRiz so incredibly much for your delicious words I so appreciate your wonderful comments
Some times I hit it sometimes amiss
The black toothed moons thats when the pretty girl is gobbled up mercilessly ;)
……………………..

The scene is set; the river is the subconscious because it is water and you are submerged

a location ...the town is born

that only exists for a few minutes
planted to create an illusion
to nourish self deception for relief of tedium or a dimensional shift time warp or something else perhaps?

your poem refers to something, its a light touch because its an ambiguity and thats what I'm left with
Is that what you want for your reader? It falls through my fingers

You know I love the way you write stylistically These are rhetorical questions but they infer the issue of magnitude and power of your commitment to the poem through the power of your language I want always the same thing from a poem; to be left touched, to be controlled by the writer, to be entranced!

how do you like Vuong

Essay on Craft
By Ocean Vuong

Because the butterfly’s yellow wing
flickering in black mud
was a word
stranded by its language.
Because no one else
was coming — & I ran
out of reasons.
So I gathered fistfuls
of  ash, dark as ink,
hammered them
into marrow, into
a skull thick
enough to keep
the gentle curse
of  dreams. Yes, I aimed
for mercy — 
but came only close
as building a cage
around the heart. Shutters
over the eyes. Yes,
I gave it hands
despite knowing
that to stretch that clay slab
into five blades of light,
I would go
too far. Because I, too,
needed a place
to hold me. So I dipped
my fingers back
into the fire, pried open
the lower face
until the wound widened
into a throat,
until every leaf shook silver
with that god
-awful scream
& I was done.
& it was human.

I don't think poems have to be " emotional" per say, but they need depth, authenticity, and language that penetrates. I think this poem does, but, at least in my case, I needed to read it several times to feel it Your writing has a tender understated eloquence. It avoids the cues of highly textured language or symbolism In other words its a narrative that waits for the very end to touch the reader and I find myself waiting for the end because of it

The same mornings. The same smiles.
But dust collects faster.
Maybe time speeds up
or the world crumbles?
Time-beaten days still stand,
and every now and then
they are sunny.
vs

The same mornings. The same smiles.
Time-beaten days still stand,
and every now and then
they are sunny.

But dust collects faster.
Maybe time speeds up
or the world crumbles?... this seems weak

another example of the power of language . Words are musical notes They are colors

Girl skulls piled like fresh-baked loaves
A foul wind scours my mother’s cadaver

Every line must hold the readers attention or function as a connection, a linguistic necessity on the way to a destination, I want more memorable language, "They move in circles and those circles move" Rilke. You missed the power of the Voung You mentioned the beginning. Yes it is good but what is immensely powerful are the last few lines They are in my opinion Gut wrenching and some of the best ever written in terms of shear impact

Poetry doesnt have to be genteel. It can be criminal, transgressive, a sword of rage or an incredibly tender kiss What ever is most important to you is your God, your religion even if it is the quiet agony of tedium

Yes tis true; minimal conceptual imagist post modern narrative etc. Each of us write to our need and what we need to read All any of have are interest and opinion.
Z

You have a beautiful countenance in your writing and true or not I imagine you have a life full of grace To me you are ponytail angel wings. Your poems are California turquoise pacific gentle summer winds and green blades of grass. I'm melted, that cherubic you, my darling friend would be so kind as to read my clanking, disgusting, attractive verse; very very very!!!!