D u b t a i l

thrash
the electric pace
beating out the pattern
in haste

clothes strewn
skins of chill awakening
the dark lash like a bow
bending a water
tear
and running
down the curvature
of expectancy
down the throat of
waiting

wet dark pupil
we are mirrors of hunger
lavish egos
lost

like ghosts on passing buses
a smile
curving in the dark dimples
rushing off
rushing near

the hot kick
of dare
and brilliant nails
shinning fresh
on staid ankles
on velvet perfumed
scenes
in mines of golden
dreams like fleece

we are wolves
attired in our sheep
carrying the fire
while the waiting
sleep

About This Poem

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: north ontario, CAN

Favorite Poets: Klo , .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...

Comments

brittle light

11 years 1 month ago

A quicky delight

...players or not
when the fire is hot....!

I like what I think it says
even if I'm off base, I like it

the action swift, the senses lift
the mental drift, rewarding

thanks,

Esker

11 years 1 month ago

magnetism of calamity..

this is true....

eightmenout

11 years 1 month ago

awakening

awakening
to the howling
wolves as it may be
baying the night
to let down her hair

knock, knock, knocking
of wood
distant
then near
then distant
again near

rising and fading
sounds
animals scratching
clawing
trying to tear the walls down
teeth sinking deep
into counting sheep
to devour the lust
I now lust for

rolling over
to a gentle snore
that shrugs the passion away
like a robe
falling off her shoulders

I have not written much lately. Not much at all. It was good that I found this and a tiny bit of inspiration. thank you