Licking Fire

The crow’s urgent call
woke me
from my haunted staring
into air and time
bleeding by.
Fits of such a violent melancholy
kept me in a perpetual state
of holding my breath,
waiting for the sorrow to subside
as high tides do
after the ocean’s
been weeping in chorus
with the moon.

Could I not just drift
inside your head for awhile?
Forget my woeful weary,
the horrorshow I’d seen
played out in the daytime.
Mmm though at night,
I watched death and the engulfing fire
that licks her lusty skin,
she flits and twists round,
ripped up fishnets held together
by bobby pins
and a loose t-shirt that fell off her shoulders,
making crop circles
on my clean carpet
with her dirty bare feet.
Between you and me,
she was such a tease,
and I loved it.

After she had her fill of me,
slipping out into the dark,
and just as I was closing my windows,
he snuck in between
my mouthing nighttime syllables,
shaking self loathing,
crawling into my bed after
visitation hours,
and I couldn’t help myself,
craved to hold his shivering bones
until the pain he howled out subsided,
his tears drying on my cheek.
We swapped no words,
just breaths and skin,
for that cold boy
who had lost his way,
tossing in the storm
that he blamed me for,
though in truth,
we were just two hurricanes
bumping into each other,
ravenous desire
to feel something,
besides that dank suffering lonely.

It occurs to me
that I had the habit
of falling for broken angels
sewn up inside
with grit and smoke.
And do you mind?
Stop trampling through
my dreams,
stumbling amidst the scenes,
hungry and impatient.
I beg you for a moment
without your tongue’s wet stutters
gnashing  and lashing out at me.
Twilight took great delight in sinking in between my legs,
just to hear me moan. 

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