red

Little glass pen that I chew on,
wound my expression with
wet closeness of cut lips.
To answer him
with sticky kisses.

Undo the corset of
diminishing faith,
unsigned, unsighed,
unsounded air, that
fills my mouth with gifts.
Sealed and forgotten in pink bows;

the colour of hearts which are
not organs behind our ribs.
Not the liquid which passes
through carrying the
mineral of my will,
beating my submission,
keeping my feelings
and thoughts
pumping together

in a bloody rush of
a tongued faltering that
braves fire.
Lick the cinders
from my white skin,

desires relics are
slipping the leash with disguised teeth,
to announce the beginning is over.


 

Reviews

[Joseph - Michael]

This is really an unusual prose poem you got there. I can picture everything well, yet I'm sort of lost in that. I do understand what the whole concept is all about, somehow I kept seeing another story to it as well.

Anyway, it just need to be a little bit of the adjustments. Other than that, it's all good...