Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Afterthought (3)

Watch wistful white kisses
diminish down depths of destitute-

sing my rhythmic freedom,

i’ve got blood cuffed ‘round my neck
(rings of burnt lines)
sour hunger,
and ungratefulness

keep me like they taught you
with smooth touches and deep
strokes holding together, breaking honesty. 

The love of mine-
All gone, burnt up, far from
you now

real dead, deeply blue

keep me like they taught you
knives hung over pure white snow
rough ravished and touched
destroyed, like you

keep me like they taught you
haunting me, with chilled hot eyes
(choking everything)

swallowed up on bitter salvation
swung down, deep down
bitter, emptiness

it rains here sometimes,
in May

in no man’s land
i sit, and let tears patter down
on the rooftops of your head
i sit

you stand in puddles of quick fear,
and lust

keep me like they taught you
i feel coupled whispers round dangerous lips
touching me smooth
stroking me deep

i’m quiet, still

keeping me like

I taught you