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Scathach
— Control the Forest of My Bones
Published:
2010-08-08 01:58:21 +0000 UTC
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Description
Thin parchment skin
Cackles its last whisper
On the edge of the impending
Crush of nails,
Spilling inky bruises
Underneath draught ridden muscles.
Skelton skull roughhousing with these iron fists
Of pursed Irish rage against the
Ivory coastline of my body.
Spine collecting tension and in a coolly
Unrehearsed perfunctory clash,
Coils of bones press outward
Moving libraries of unannounced fury
To the wordless moments of curvaceous calamities.
Hips compress into tangible anguish
While tits swell with the tides of climaxing
Distress proposed by the indecisive actions of another.
At least there is control
In the rivers of veins
The bundles of muscles
The forest of my bones.
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Comments:
1
SedahLiah
[2010-08-08 02:00:40 +0000 UTC]
So beautifully written.
👍: 0 ⏩: 0