Static Socks

Stumble and dive
we just turned five -
each of us hold a balloon.

Run down the hall
stumble and fall -
scraping our knees before noon.

Slide on some socks
build static shocks -
zapping each other with grins.

Act like a brat
slide on the mat
Carpet burn stings on our shins.

Wearing our shoes
nothing to loose
we call out our parents bluffs

We ruin the lawn
now wearing a yawn -
our memories sketched in shoe scuffs
Advertisement

Bite Me Beast

Bite me beast.

Feel this saccharine smile melt the rotting gum beneath the teeth in the same ringing, rusted tone as the "I told you so" that was never said.

Bite me! 

See how fast the slack jaw snaps back to sink a saddened sully into your sore shoulders. Feel the teeth vibrate against the muscle - adrenaline promised you taste best when the meat is tender, so with open mouth, I'll knead the submission back into your rebellion.

Bite. Me. Beast 

Savour the silence of shock, for that bite only ends in a wrath of stars: striking to transfix the minds eye, and feigning relief to hide a shattered grin.

Pink Gin Ballet

Am I to be poured of cold glass
and dance with death in soft pink gin?
We'll spin upon a tailor's pin
wearing the tarnish of brass.

Bewitched in gaze, sunk in morass,
I tread both lines in mortal skin.
Am I to be poured of smashed glass
and dance soft with death in pink gin?

Reaper smiles sickeningly crass
rapping bone on pondering chin
with a heavy sigh of chagrin.
This moment of visit must pass.
I am poured out of cold smashed glass
while death dances soft in pink gin.

Feast on You

The beads of your sweat dance
As glitter in the dull candle light:
Pooling in tiny wells of anticipation
Purified in the heat of subtle terror.

My beautiful centerpiece
Trussed up securely
A hungered entrée display

Admired with heavy breaths,
You're examined by ravenous eyes,
Traced by the fingers of libidinous desire,
For patience wears at starvation's tolerance.

Let sharpened blade be unsheathed
Let us feast on you
To satiate this hunger

Watch your warm entrails drip
With the remaining lucid seconds. 
My pitiful meal, how shameful you've become
Watching your heart stop beating in love's cold hand

Tartan

I let you scar me in answer to an askless question. I revelled ingloriously as each misguided infliction scored my futile seekings. A major that played first through fifth in sweet disharmony and lines of minor indiscretion. Tartan lay across my skin in various stages of healing. I held gauze in my teeth as you layered Razor wire upon my wounds - how would I bleed if not by your hand? Bandaged in the unresolved then left to lick free the salt while watching your heels meet the horizon in goodbye