1. |
Hallowed and Harrowed
01:19
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hold on to our holy silence.
fade into the hallowed cloth.
entwined in ecstasy,
and immaculate dreams.
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2. |
Abendrot
06:33
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I can’t sleep without her embrace or liminal space.
askance in the perceived serenity.
and as she breathed,
her chest rose like the swell of waves.
mellifluous birdsong streaks through the sunlit glass.
alighting her figure, framed like a portrait.
studying her form, I’m lost for words.
soundlessly sharing the warmth of our bodies.
and as she traces along the silk and satin,
I draw maps of the rivers in her skin.
grey skies, white lace, black hearts.
wide-eyed and tongue-tied.
and the touch of her skin, how it must be a sin;
the light of her lips, saccharine.
as I grow more lost with her every breath,
and fade into the harrowed cloth.
enraptured in our bed,
the pain is an anchor,
mooring me, unrelenting, in her reality.
her scars begin to grow.
I’m seared into her skin like sutures,
complicit in her mutilation.
holding on to holy silence.
coveting and ravenous.
courage gets stuck in our throats
like the twisted fiction she acts out
while pacing along the edge of the precipice.
with her nails on my back,
and her teeth on my neck,
she ravages what remains of our tryst.
will these wounds heal?
only time will tell.
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Hakanai Brooklyn, New York
voted most likely to languish in obscurity.
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