inertia writes:

I watch
Two parallels, conforming; an interlude of working parts.
A subliminal paradox; a deliberate encounter,
That manifests into sweaty palms and awkward contortions.
Diminishing the craving; you’re on the platter.
A feeble want; desire.
A magnetic attraction
To blame this hunger on starvation;
To drink my fill of divine.
Slowly begins the ache from faltering nerve confusions.
Rapidly the pulses strike me…
You are my everything.
The fear of humiliation astounds me.
You watch as I tare my gaze from your mouth.
I want to kiss you.
Waiting for your approval, an exchange of pacifications.
The line, the entrance, the pigments that web in your eyes.
Or the others that form from veins as they travel through your skin and
Transmit vinegar in threw your touch.
Leaving me suffused in the remnants of grace;
You smell of wine and I of grapes.

I watch
Two armies, two columns, two surges echoing transmissions and receptions.
In a gallery, hanging from brass fixtures, I’m suspended from a
Mobile of organs and flesh.
Soon I will be an exhibit.
The eerie notion of being trapped inside your own head,
Being pricked by a pin while under the impression that it is a sword.
I embrace the illusion that
You are nothing but a statue that I’ve brought to life.
Replay the destruction for the ones left alive,
I don’t want to look with my own eyes;
I can’t refuse you.
I won’t lose you;
I want to taste you,
Waste you.
I want to peel you
Whole.

#writtenword