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Category: Writing and Poetry
It has been decades as time here is ciphered,since these lungs have had modern air to satisfy themOr note the mundane thump of my heartI have not had tears furl down these cadaverous cheeksor comprehend warmth of my body in the succor of a down-filled paillasseUnceremonius distant memories, friends lost in perpetuumI watched you slumber, your eyes nomadic in some vivid dreamEven here on your ledge, the heat of your body is understoodEfflux of your scent, rich civet floating by me, I musedMapping your face on the glass of the window I brushed your cheekMy nails leaving a spare trail of blood, the consequence of my caressYou turned but did not wakeThe bouquet of your scent made my mind drunk with eagernessTo cull on your veins, to oversee your skin wane haunted as mine is nowShould I take you instanter or like inamorata, extend the cravingI can not dream of you as sleep is no consortTo my amazement your eyes opened, locked on mine, finding me lost in thoughtA corner of your mouth smirked as your tongue reached out to lick the blood that had seeped down your cheekMy eyes darkened a deep amethyst, a sign of the flux gaining upon meI smiled tenderly at you, my ivories lustrous against the moonlightshall I lift open the window to seize and take you as sacrosanctOr shall I relinquish, delay the pleasureA moment so succulent for now
7:41 PM
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