Poem Hunter
BB (12/08/1982 / Pittsfield, Il)


Your fingers play, exploring the netherworld sins of foreplay
your sensory digit of venom black
surrounding the cushiony mortals of southern rays
a stench of Southern Comfort flaring from your nostrils
and a case of Natural Light at your flaming feet
powerful surge of electricity flows
freely pouring salt into an empty womb
bending to kiss my subtle lips
spitting profanity into your mouthfilled ear
passing through an inebriated field of battle
no caress could settle the urge and circumferance of insanity
that fills the paper thin walls of my collapsing heart
I can't stand to see you in my mythological dreams
of dancing pegasuses and frollicking pans
now turning to a dirt filled playground for the deceased
barricades and fronts are all I am
bombarding a truthful array of diamonds in a well
waiting to escape your filthy touch
of creamy smelling fingernails and bloody strings
soaking up the crimson water of a naked nymph
singing words to a song even she doesn't know

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Comments (1)

Real life poetry. I understood these powerful words written. A excellent poem.