Waiting For Death

Or calling her ripe name,
begging for skin to be twisted,

inch-by-inch,
I bribe her with my back
to the sun, my skin is enough,

too delicate for these loose brains
and fast nerves,
but trustworthy.

I whistle her black song through my veins.
I burn like tar, like tomorrow
might choke on sensation –

and push!!

She smells like wet dawn,
tastes like molasses. Deep in my throat she turns

over. Heaven is everywhere.

Advertisements

15 thoughts on “Waiting For Death

    1. Oh thank you for your thought. The ending is always a tough one but I liked the way th is one turned out. I appreciate your comment a lot.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s