BY anaise
drop by silent drop this wounded heart grown old so young exists in mute rage, a scream without breath buried within the tatters of eden where nothing growsbeat by silent beat half a heart labours where a full heart would fail, tears lost in the rain, a forgotten riverbed running the breadth of eden where nothing flows
ache by stifled ache this clenched fist bound within my chest wearies of endless struggle, a stinging unmarked path traversing the bitter debris of eden where no one goes
fury by ragged fury this nova heart vacant and battered cold trips its frozen tempo, a bloodless abandoned abattoir the eye in the storm of eden that no one knows
seeking,never finding feeling,never binding
Mouths and knives to choose from. Little touch Reaches Under skirt, Over stocking tops, Long fingernails on female. Eroticism throws me tawdry and tasteless. My sex is lipsticked, Burning blood red. (When we are silent, We are not mouths, But wounds.) I whisper my love to her, And seek her mouth. I was born needing To communicate In all forms. Yvonne
I saw two eyes of flame
In my sleepy dream
My voice was silent
I could not scream
I thought I was
But no one came
To save me from...
The eyes of flame
They pierced my body
And my soul...
Over me they hovered
In a short time
The eyes of flame
Became my passionate lover