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Literature Text
There is something
predatory
in the scrape of your nails
on the kitchen table;
in the tension of the veins
popping from your neck;
in the growl of your voice
when you admit
you can't let me go.
The air is violet, buzzing,
steeped in electrostatic hum.
The sweet scent of the hunt.
I am rabbit-eyed, wide and reckless,
knowing I have already been caught.
I hunker deep,
fighting the urge
to jack-rabbit over the table
and flee;
I'm easy prey tonight,
avoiding your hungry-wolf eyes.
You haven’t moved,
Huntsman, an army of horses
stampeding in your heart, you
are waiting for me to cower.
There are ridges
on your knuckles
and I can almost hear
the rabbits
screaming
in the cage
of your ribs
as you breathe
the cruelest words
between your teeth.
You want me less wild;
something docile and yielding
can't let me go
can't let me go
every way out is a trap.
I keep a close watch
on the claws
of your hands,
but you know
how to hurt me
from a distance.
predatory
in the scrape of your nails
on the kitchen table;
in the tension of the veins
popping from your neck;
in the growl of your voice
when you admit
you can't let me go.
The air is violet, buzzing,
steeped in electrostatic hum.
The sweet scent of the hunt.
I am rabbit-eyed, wide and reckless,
knowing I have already been caught.
I hunker deep,
fighting the urge
to jack-rabbit over the table
and flee;
I'm easy prey tonight,
avoiding your hungry-wolf eyes.
You haven’t moved,
Huntsman, an army of horses
stampeding in your heart, you
are waiting for me to cower.
There are ridges
on your knuckles
and I can almost hear
the rabbits
screaming
in the cage
of your ribs
as you breathe
the cruelest words
between your teeth.
You want me less wild;
something docile and yielding
can't let me go
can't let me go
every way out is a trap.
I keep a close watch
on the claws
of your hands,
but you know
how to hurt me
from a distance.
Literature
ocean lungs
you weigh something like gravity
in my tired expanse. you are
sand;
(my once splendid mountain)
my love is the ocean
that has worn you down.
with my monstrous tongue,
i pulled you in.
as you fall,
sweeping peacefully into the depths
and filling each crevice,
i am learning to inhale shores.
some would say i'm suffocating
and bring me buckets of air (only to have it
escape my slippery grip).
no, the tides need something heavy
to make of her
a home.
Literature
Magic Flute
The moment I felt Death courting you
my rib cage collapsed. I curled
into childhood: the strange little girl
always alone, talking to herself
on the playground, thinking she
was whispered a safe solitude
of hush-holy clouds, relieved
to slip away from mating rituals
unnoticed; a detached solitude
seeing only in shades of rock
beneath a surface any touch
or even death couldn't reach.
Listen: Love is the beginning of Truth
you were the first coup de foudre
I climbed and the last amour
out of this place. Wherever
the courtship carried you,
if ever a marriage or honeymoon,
I renounce this waiting of hope;
this solitude of celibate
Literature
Things I Do When I Feel Down :c
There are times in our lives,
When we hit the all time low.
When the second-hand serenades no longer cut it,
And when simply 'letting it burn' no longer works for us.
We roll upon our beds like a roly-poly collection of rolltastic things;
And we lay face up toward the ceiling, slaying monsters on our portable consoles.
But that my friends is when inspiration strikes!
That is the moment when I rise up from the covers,
When I take a marker pen in my hand and use it as a microphone.
When my neighbours wonder what the bloody hell is going on,
Because I've started singing songs by Nightwish.
And when I get bored of that, IRON SAVIOUR,
Heavy Me
Suggested Collections
Still Day 27!
THIS is a collab with the WONDERFULLY TALENTED scatteredwords!
GOGOGO show her, and her version of this collaboration, some love!
tequilatequila, I had forgotten your
slow burn, silver tumble over tongue,
how you smolder a body from the inside.
Your guileless glissade down to the feet,
a liquored gypsy waltz, I sipped you straight,
Jalisco bottled under agave bloom.
tequila, you stole my breath in a
bar-room haze, falling fast into rhythm
and I couldn't keep up the pace, tequila,
you are just a lash of memories
I cannot quite remember,
soused with an emptiness I'd rather forget.
January 27th, 2014
© 2014 - 2024 betwixtthepages
Comments15
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Wonderful work, ladies.