The Magic and the Mystic Intertwine

Talking barbies

took the bait,

makeup oozing

from drowned pores,

bones and toxins

were all that remained

of the screaming soul

that just wanted

to be “pretty”

in a world where

plastic dolls

are lifted up

as idols,

poisonous mythos

of beauty,

funneled through

our bleeding ears,

taunting us in our sleep,

beating us down

to the asphalt,

chemicals and self-loathing.

Could I waltz

you away through time?

Kicking the empty glasses

and rusty newspapers aside,

tumbling down sultry staircases,

we dance

through the gaping eye

in the candle flame.

We may falter,

for a moment,

swaying too swiftly

in the grass

that softly licks

our ankles

with the dew

from the morning,

my tongue tasting

the energy

passing back and forth

between us

with an audible sigh

from the outdoor furniture. 

You and I

crashed together

like lightning striking earth,

as it zips and splits

through the sky,

thrusts himself deep

into her holy ground,

she moans low and rough,

responds with

shaking and resonating pulses,

her voice vibrating

the air like a fury,

the Magic and the Mystic

growling and grinding

into each other

so that the dawn

could brings us

to wake and rise

maybe one more day,

in the heat of the dawn

and death roaring,

slicing space

like a switchblade

cutting tinsel.