a sick dance

i pine and burn too fervently for death’s adoration to ever truly make myself an unquestioning instrument for life’s joy. i bow to life but my heart and mind belongs to another..

oblivion provides an adequate dancefloor

death my jaded sultry mistress to life's elegance..

she circles and tiptoes around the floor with silent steps closely watching and amused 

at life's warm and whole hearted waltz. a flare not rigid but graceful.

still always my thoughts linger on death's chill and wild embrace

her's not a dance but

a still midnight mist that lingers and never was all at once..

a silence more savory than intimacy.  

she keeps her distance 

but never let's me forget who really holds my heart..

i fear her not, nor care how many times she has taken and lain with my nearest and dearest

she and i will someday be one and i will rightly take my place at her side.

and life will come to regret the faith it placed in me..

and holy s**t that's the last time i write on half a bottle of wine. 

goodness, what low brow material.  

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Good to write with some good drink as a motivator. My best poetry was written with the pen in one hand and the tequila in the other. I like the poem a lot. The description brought the story to life. Many kind of dances. Lady midnight need to leave us at peace. Thank you for the excellent poetry.
Coyote