Parisian Tides Kiss The Inlets Of Their Wrists~A Poem by NoneOfYourBusiness akaKITTY KUTABAREakaCandyPoleShe called herself Mercy her body like a sovereign scrap of gun metal she stepped over the edge of the Eiffel Tower into a holy superstition bloated on lawless constitutions dipped with biscuits into a cup of espresso at Cafe De Flore while he played her lacey borders with his fingertips as if she were a golden harp a covenant to dishonor struck her kindhearted anthems of like chords of discord aside for generational vanity overturned her plate of berries as children sang like tortured bluebirds in gutter clothes their footsteps whispers across the broken streets He called himself Irony his sins falling just a breath short of being evil as he bent into his scholarly definitions of sorrow seized by the broken effigies of Bacchus on the yellow parchments turning to dust as he confessed his dark arousals to the timeless and obscure injustice of a marigold pressed between his ribs; as a child he'd fancied an angel put the blossoms inside of him before it walked away it's belly full and it's wings encrusted with seashells bought by Lillith in a dream from an antique shop in Quimper in 1968 but being a man with crushed loyalties and stained lips from mulberry wine he knew there was no merit to the repentance of him being him and he slammed the book against the concrete wall and rekindled an old flame unashamed Mercy licked the crab meat and butter from his fingertips her tongue a ruby flame searing his unique prints until his skin was flawless; the waiter, startled by the drips of spherical flame popping on the tip of her tongue dropped the plate of empty oyster shells and fell back into a sea of tranquil mythological consolations where a boy could taste the disappointments of the father as the mother, delighted, enlightened by the finer aspects of cheap wine came to the conclusion it be best to hit the roads of a better future and hopped into her tiny car with nothing but a purse filled with tobacco a compact in shade of fair and a tube of red lipstick Irony winced at the sound of crushing porcelain hitting golden laced tiles his central nervous system flipped back into an alcove of silver belt buckles the skin on his back shivered illuminating childhoods spent hidden in closets away from big men with refined hands in leather gloves that never saw a day of honest work; his lover leaned across the lace cloth of the table rescued his spirit with a kiss pressed against his old wound centered in his palm stroked the locks of golden hair away from the skin braided with divine scarring from his temples and Irony smiled at the man across the table whispered how he'd pledge his strength to him if this time it was forever In a corner of Au Diable des Lombards an old man in a black coat sat in the shadows eating souls bumping against his lips with the atoms in the air drinking a fine Sauvignon; he looked at the woman who was not quite human at all as she leaned deep into the fragments of the politician who would be decapitated in sunshine by her allure and unforgiving nature he gazed at the man of golds and scars eating seared lamb cutlets as the cross lay across his back like a shade his lover soothing indents of his history with blue eyes swirled through with love and the old man shook a Gitanes from his pack and put it between his burgundy lips he closed his book of compositions strode like a bound willow weeping past Mercy past Irony and opened his ribs to the waiter in their stead who fell through with gratitude into the blessings of Bacchus The old man in the black coat returned to the hotel Sorbonne around midnight and wrote his songs drank poetry from a cup of lavender tea and left Paris on a morning flight to Cairo © 2010 NoneOfYourBusiness akaKITTY KUTABAREakaCandyPoleAuthor's Note
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Added on July 16, 2010Last Updated on September 17, 2010 Tags: poetry, surreal, victoriaselene skye deme, author, poetess, reptilian hindbrain candy, paris, moods, trips, trix, primal baklavah, girls with red hair on cherry ca AuthorNoneOfYourBusiness akaKITTY KUTABAREakaCandyPoleAsIf, Trippy Cottontail, JapanAboutVictoriaSelene Skye Deme Author of. . . . ~CrowWoman & MudGirl~ ~Eve's Rib~Jezebel's Hips~ ~The Raspberry Girl~ ~Girls With red Hair On Cherry Cadillacs With Bushido Swords~ ~From The Gutte.. more..Writing
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