His black painted nails,
pointed talons
come curling out of
the smoke tracing lines
in my lungs in pillars
billowing; gusting bellows
as I gasp and grapple to expel
the presence so malevolent
writhing red eyed on the floor,
you've pinned me down cruciform.
You lick my lips, my tongue
speaking words, whispering
things I don't understand.
You say 'Love' and it freezes
frozen and red and silver in the air,
it falls and smashes like glass
and your face is, still, in a rictus grin;
the tendons and veins in your throat strike the skin, like whips strained,
your eyes bulge seeing the truth
for the first time the black fingered thing crawling out from between our legs, entwining in our eyes
strangling the life that lived
in the broken words and the things unheard, spoken apart.
When the light shone but was dark,
starched satin pillows cradled the cups;
the chalices contsining our lightning lighting
the love, animating our hearts
for battle, slipped away...
prophesied to tear us apart.
YOU ARE READING
She, Infinity
PoesíaI mean to place sight within the constraints of sound and drive it into the bed rock, the foundation of feeling, literally rather than metaphorically.
