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Flames melt a moaning sky. The sun succumbs to heart's desire. As do I give up a long smearing kiss. A slow slithering of tongue to dissolve the day while the real world fades. To die in rapture, to exist in bliss? Life is a birthmark of strawberries and blood. Once again, madness descends How many little deaths must die, before sleep is forever seared to sorrow? Is one allowed to speak out loud the curse of ascending flame? Is this one of the torments gone amiss from black abyss? Raven's have blue black wings in tribute to decadent domain. Panthers stalk the night, their grace patterned after syrupy flow. Then comes solitude from beyond the witching hour It is time to devour more silken truffles. Ravished beyond reason. languid throbbing heat. Purring essence, Tainted sin. Such a toothsome treat. Plead for release But it seems confectioners are without mercy. |
Strange as it might seem this confectioner is not without mercy I said as I handed out treats on Halloween. I'm sure the kids get high off my sugar. Thanks for the silken truffle!! Bruce | Posted on 2012-08-27 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ] | i see this as both the end of a day...a sunset literally, and also the sunset of a life... | and said in a most imaginative way... i keep going back to the lines "life is a birthmark of strawberries/ and blood" exceptional! jacob | Posted on 2012-08-23 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] | |