, , , , ,

Slightly crooked,
Asymmetrical on my face.
Just a hint, never baring teeth.

A slight amusement,
My eyes twinkling,
With my mocking demeanour.

I don’t mean to mock,
I don’t laugh at you.

Your actions,
Your words,
Your every movement,
Make me smile.

You think I’m laughing at you.
Can’t help that I seem like a bitch,
But you’ve made me smile.

Congratulations, you cracked through.



, , , ,

The door’s fallen off.
How do I replace it without hinges?

I can’t keep the slippery thoughts together.
They squirm and wriggle and I-

– I Doubt.
Paranoia sweeps through every inch of me.
The panic rises and I can’t keep focus.

Everything is a blur.
I know I am erratic, but I can’t stop myself.

Like watching a film of myself coming apart.
I can’t breathe.

Nothing Special


, , , ,

Just one time.
That would be all then 

“I feel nothing anymore”
I said.
You just smiled.

The second time,
Turned into three to six at once.
“Nothing special.” 
I told myself.

A hundred kisses.
Dozens of hours lost in your arms.
Nothing special.

“Something special.”
You said.
Still I wait for the catch.

“No catch, something special.”
You said. 
A hundred more kisses.
A dozen more hours.

“Something special.”
I agreed.



, , , , ,

He will hate me for knowing it,
Loathe her for thinking it,
Wish himself free of it,
Keep the triangle caught in it.

I am not a Pompadour,
Nor a Maintenon or Montespan.
He is not the Sun or it’s son.
He is low and I am less.

His gaze of rays doesn’t shine on me,
But passes me over, though I know he sees.
He will remember, preserved in a memory,
Trapped in that moment, that touch.

She will fade, grow dull by time.
I will linger in thought, in mind.
My touch, my lips, my breath.
I will be his vice, she the victor.



, , , ,

He picks at every layer
Dissecting slowly, slowly, slowly
Lips inhale her
As the tongue tastes.

Poor doe, she had no chance.
The woods are wild and he –
He marked her as his own

Finally he had her.
He could take her down
– Make her his forever.
Consume her.

Knowing her, he knows
How to hunt.
She’s a well-thumbed book,
He’s an avid reader.

They tussle and fight
But slowly he subdues her.
Lays her down
Makes the fatal blow.

Claws out, teeth bared, eyes gleaming
He devours her.
Down to the bone, the core.
He has every inch of her.

He was so hungry.
Now he is almost too full.
She seemed to fill him,
Stuff him more than the others.

Why would she let him have her?
And so easily.
She knew his hunger.
She needed to satisfy.

Soon, he would finish.
Eventually he would be hungry again.
He ate his fill that night,
She was gone by the end.

He laid back, stuffed and satisfied.
Glanced at the meal’s remains,
What a mess he’d made.
And so he left.

He was never good at cleaning up.

Sleep Evaded


, , , ,

I am trying.
To quiet a mind that won’t rest.
I lay quietly in the dark,
Surround myself with softness –
With warmth.

Small creature comforts.
Yet every moment of my days
Spins out of my head.
Writhing long tangled tangents

Thoughts curled into my hair,
A Medusa of intellect.
The peace of being a statue alluring.
Reverse metamorphoses.

I lay still and quiet,
My mind screams.
A swirling whirlpool, undertow
Beneath serene seas.

Sleep evades me.



, , , , ,

In a glow of the new
Trapping the moment
Ensconcing it in memory.

An attempt to stretch it
Preserve something
That slips so quickly
Fades into nothing

Wrapped in the warmth
A trail of fingers
A synchronicity of beats
A lapping of tongues

Breath on breath
The air thick and heavy
A heady potent perfume
Skin on fire

New, fresh and pure.
I’ll trap it under glass
Frame it in my hall of memories.