... my words,
will never be enough.
my poems,
... are beautiful lies.
and maybe i am the beauty i find in them.
and maybe i am the lies that i ignore.
love only comes through sacrifice.
my sacrifice is silence.
silent in my home
alone in chest,
my heart beats itself into life.
in silence
hear my noises.
hear the rivers of my blood squirting through the valves of the dam man couldn't build
feel pores open
temperature sifting into skin and out...
the jungle of hair, scalp; its own desert.
snowfall of dead skin
world war three of teeth and fingernails
plates shifting within my stomach
pending colon, second by second, weighing heavier with shit,
straining sphincter
whip of muscles raised high above my every task.
the pendulum fist swinging from shoulder,
the two boulders behind the phallus,
the sleeping totem pole engraved by female teeth...
thickening on slippery tongues
porridge left on the partners leg,
a silent bed, that knows every partner.
2 comments:
DWRL
Wwwwwoooooooooiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee
mi like dah one yah
it bad
lol
oops
my poems,
... are beautiful lies.
and maybe i am the beauty i find in them.
and maybe i am the lies that i ignore.
Oh, beautiful. How glad I am that I found your blog today.
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