4.26.2011

Day 62 (My Glass Love)

Glass is the chamber
pumping the polyurethane
through thin crystal veins
object of desire
caught this tinder on fire
burnt down the bog and mire
you spoke
with the will and whisper
of a human
split and forked tongue
the manipulation started slowly
and
built so you could know me the inherent possibility
of picket white fences
behind dark eyes
so a heart flutters and flies
easily caught in a web of lies
left with lame spider vs fly metaphors
the pen pad prison cell
verse segment line
constructing my own hell
memories will never fade
the longer we tip toe and wade
through the stream of consciousness
anointing egos with ambergris 
for the appeal and momentary bliss
of the un-remissed
seconds inside
soon forgotten hide
torrid and tepid 
my transgressions
sting on soft flesh
but still you sparkle and shine
glimmering whine
through my simple mind
have to
want to
need to
hold the exquisite
mold and curve
smooth edge will slice
leather flesh bend to will's bite
a welcome early night

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