I Painted You

I painted you red

and purple twisted reverence

on walls,

dimly lit bathroom stalls,

kitchenettes with twittering birds,

without any questions as to why

or answers really,

just a deep

burning pain

and a head cough.

Yes,

of course deary,

there were always

scars to talk of,

fire licking,

dripping

from my fingerprints

while I moved slowly,

curved and caressed

water and earth,

never to break,

just to be

unbound,

frothing on the

inner thighs of the sea.

Oh my gentle mistresses and misters,

have no hurtful worries

for your pain

and furry

subsides with

the tides and

churnings of

stomachs,

breaths deep and sensual,

penetrating

heavy burdens

like snow melting

on the tongue,

slipping subtle down the throat,

thrusting within

till the moon shines,

the raven cries,

tantric whispers in ears,

hairs stand to attention,

beats harkened

to the dawn

as if we would

never be seen again

through the serpent’s

almighty squinting eye.