Cerebral High

We never discussed politics,
not in bed anyway,
the art of making war where peace reigned
resigned to injustice where naked-
we were both the same.

Some innocence, bear beat and translucent
tumultuous but never arduous.
But,
when you spoke,
opiates configured the synapses between
my thighs,

wanderlust

you might judge
more to jousting than the
sombre edge to your notes
that relight in me the joy of what?
What used to be?
What I am now?

Slivers of opalescence from simplicity
hiding behind stubbled skin
subdued by olive eyes and creases,
just by the side of lips arched animated,
inviting.

Analytical dimorphism dissolved
into a comfortable blanket
where, for once, vulnerabitilty
belonged in that dictionary
kept locked in the back of my head.

Joyously I listened,
head pillowed in moment reeling
keening, for another word
of nothingness.

Harlot

Slip swaying tight peach in pencil skirt
pen in mouth-straight line stocking pout.
Rockabilly dreams beneath dyed crimson waves
painted-on; beauty facade.

Every day, groundhogged stunted
play politicking with suits squandered,
meanderthal pronounciate power games,
smegma breeze, heads turn.

Small town girl, assets and asset
remit of the ugly gene,
festering melancholic myasms
benign metastases flower.

Juxtapose those bony hips
dogging with the alpha,
start again 9 am, with a snap
of a garter clasp.

Smoke throat giggle,
normalcy
craving
tick tocking of that clock in
the Gaultier skirt.

Beware the bitch.

Toxins

This glinted blade engorged in avarice and ‘friendly’ vice,
parting fickle hope in words, frustrating masturbation.
Non-touching toxin, safe advance to woo and then to slice
skin so thin it crumbles under slightest connotation.
To spill your seed on Phoebe’s breast, obey the sacred heart-
pulsing, gorging, make believe you’re drunk upon your ego,
Malignant raging centrepiece, a cock and counterpart
hanging there defunct misfired-re aim your bent torpedo.

Re-jig corruption hewn in fickle sentimental farts
talk in code-Enigma never undermined libido-

these mind games lost in sentience, within the worms do squirm-
judge your stock by cut of jib, not cunts you left bed-sided.
This warfare you create inflicting sex upon your germ
harsh reality, your penance, ignorance misguided.

Fatally Flawed

Open mouthed, salivating,
unforgiven words.
Passed
in silence.

Room spin, raw throat
spottled spittle depravity.

Clenched jaw, head high
undermined.

Formidably uncrossing pale legs
juncture and crevice
yearns.

Broken glass
sickly remnants of whisky
dribbles half-heartedly.

Listless kiss regrets,
double-jeopardy jumped.

Unfurling luscious betrayal wafts
ruffling, tempting.

Open mouthed, salivating;
discarded.
Thirty-four.

Drunken Morphology

Finger shaking intellectualism
“I know this one”
licksliding Jagerbomb
flicksniding barkeep,
yanking jeans over muffintop creams
“I know this one”.

“What do you know?”
Dark ballyale potbellied dirk
grins copping ample bunned cleavage
exhaling halitosis drool.

Cold blue eye stare

“The meaning of fucking life”

Cold meats

Slither in shame
beneath flagrant fingers
pointing judgement for
your discrepancies and differences.

Punish the innocent with Mustard gas
intoxicated throat burn
the sin of being human.
Immortal memories ingrained
within the grey mattered annals of history.

Capsuled with wailing horns
iconoclastic details overlooked.
Slipslide out of memories reach.

Devil is in the detail, so they say.

Cold meat,
bare bone,
blood sacrificed-
shoes thrown.

Fabricated

Caress of the breeze,
reminded me why
escape was a requirement.
An eternal gratitude
which for a still shutter-framed moment
made me more
than I was before.

As it froze, solidifying
an accumulating tear
it dawned,
the realisation that
this woman is three-dimensional,
much more than vapour
dissipating like morning dew
from heating stone.

When I look
beyond those clouds
which enshrouded you
I die a little;
because all you stood for
was fabricated.

A heartbreaths away

I can’t be your redemption
in a million languages
I cannot even find my own,
mottled beneath your downy need
and blinkered juxtaposition.
With only a veil of clarity,
we cannot touch
although pink pulse yearns heart beats
for the want of your void shaped hole.

I wish I could be more,
but I’m forgettable.

The still

Dawn here, is different
somehow still,
stretching slowly awake
beneath a cloak of frozen fog
tinged with sea salt
and fertile earth.

An alternate reality
where I struggle to
bring myself to life,
to awaken against the stifling
English morning
to be heard, although silent
and still.

When all is grey
your streak of blue
is visible in the distance
where you abide and belong.
Far from my fragility
reflected in frigid droplets
of sallow mist.

I am undecided
whether it is you
or I who does not belong
here
standing in the ploughed ridges
where gulls circle cackling
waiting to move on.

Intrigue bubble

Meander with me,
stranger,
a while in the sadness
behind glacial eyes
which hope to melt

someday;

dripdropping their raindrop strata
somewhere within the realms
of your fingertips
which stroke those strung out
anticipated words of hope.

I can’t cry like normal people do.

But when we walk together
on these occasional outings
we
are not alone.