sweet fleshy skin warm
kiss like nothing else
your orange creamy tart taste will into honey turn if we lay in the sun together
the smell of green emanates from you within calling me to pull the knife
i strip you down to your ripe round middle and gently nibble and suck you down
and when the time is right i stroke you down as i’m reminded of his long missed circumcision
and our tropical walks through Walmart aisles shopping for the Fourth of July
moon peeks slowly orange glow beautiful at two in the morning
we inebriated on thoughts on old angers and accusations
moon she shows cleavage through silks and laces tailored for her by the Venus
we savage with our voice one fist raised above the other torn lapels teary eyes your cut knuckles my need to run
moon swells enormous pregnant by the Mars no weeping in her labor she knows how to raise the stars
we impassioned and raged swell in our erotic locations kissing negotiations the climax nears the horizon
moon wanes with satisfied relief and the pinkest carnal flush
it drips and mingles
marries with the blood
soothsayer to what comes
slashes through the confusion
of the heart ethics
of good and not
so much evil is
her delicious name i
a groupie of her’s
claimed soul punch the
mirror to break the
soul it’s cloaked in
tones of luke warm
vengeance clouded in the
wine and chemicals entwined
don’t need your knife
to stab my back
i can self destruct
in searing pleasure do
you know what love
is i didn’t think
so and words fall
from your corpsely lips
corrupting my intentions to
provide a safety switch
to the runaway train
that is my conscience
rage and anger exotic
sisters of pain and
trickery demons extraordinaire in
the doctrine of auto
annihilation i rebuke myself
turn to junkydom cliff
the part that is peace within myself is a
tiny girl humming bird
here and there can’t stop for air
i’m not prepared to answer why
i can only sing at the bottom of my lungs
so high so high that no one can hear
the sky and the flowers don’t deserve another
song of sorrow and hurt to add to the menu
of those souls who are caged in their own
stories of struggle torture and pain
nor do i know when i will stop fluttering about
looking for somewhere to rest my thoughts and calm
my fears of getting caught in the nets
of monsters
words less spoken 