Wednesday, August 10, 2011

I Remember

I remember when the
song of crickets had been silenced since
the fifteenth of September,
And the ground froze to a
shiny crunch in the dancing
beams of sunlight as the twilight
of the day evanesced into night,
I remember how your shy smile
crept onto your cheeks that looked
like a blooming rose of summer,
And how your olive eyes watched my
glossy mouth as it curled around the tip
of a snow-white cigarette,
I remember how your lips felt pressed
like curious fingertips of the blind - desperate
and trying to read the goosebumps of my skin like braille,
And how the bedroom always reeked
of our scents together, mixed like gin and tonic,
Or how you snaked yourself around my ligaments -
lips and hands smearing the sugary crystals of
moisture that had formed on my body as you
impaled me over and over,
I remember how I would have lied for you,
Died for you,
Given up anything for you,

Most of all, I think I remember
how when miles and winter crept
like branches of ivy between were gone...

Rainy Afternoon

Her eyes stare vacantly out the window,

Twin sapphire orbs set back in a cradle of

mineralized osseous tissue,

As her hands splay like golden stars

amongst the sheets of satin,

Her line of vision dances from one raindrop

slicing through the cold air of late fall,

To another,

and another...

Suddenly, as if on cue,

the bed dips and sways like

the hips of a pair of lovers dancing,

Joints buckle, she cascades backwards,

The ribbons of her hair slither like

onyx snakes over the expanse of the

cloud beneath her,

His tongue slides like a fat, wet toad

across the pillow of her lips,

demanding entrance to the cave beyond

Musky, needy breath washes

over the organ of her skin,

Leaving the tiniest rows of goosebumps

to decorate her,

He wraps around her like recalcitrant

sheets wrap around the legs of one

in the early morning,

After all this time,

she's finally learned not to fight back,

For it is a useless effort,

Like trying to find a corner

on a round building,

Minutes pass like hours

until the ritual of lust is finally


Seeping the honey of his


She runs sweaty fingers through

her dark hair, pulling and tugging

at the knots he made with his


He returns to the technicolor

box of noise in the other room,

Satiated and content,

Like a fat swine after eating slop

and rolling in filth,

Her eyes go back to dancing from

raindrop to raindrop,

While the clock "tssssk's" in

disappointment of her complacent attitude

towards her life...