Of Laceration, And Of Love

Of laceration, and of

Love,

The air at times

Thickens

With grief...

…And in our bondage,

Gambler’s fold

…Wet fluids gush,

Slacken the drive,

And knock the

Hot air

Out my hut...

...Yank coral rug

From nether

Regions

Under weight...

...The air contorts,

Bending wet

Sheets

That swell,

And spank

The wayward

Night!...

...What is this

Titillating

Fight

Of laceration,

And of love?...

...I pause to pity

My poor dove

Who hit the

Power-line

While soaring...

Split by the biting ice

Of mourning,

She’s sprawled upon a

Freshly

Polished porch...

My comet soul

Is pitching

Down,

And diving towards

Her darkest

Place...

This body yearns

To fly like spit

From off a hobo

Fire-pit, and

Through the worm-

hole,

Straight to the

Heart...

...I see you

Naked through

Thin vapors,

And my whole

World

Falls apart!…

...Ache to be

Close,

I do now thirst...

To see the face

I most desire...

Missing you most

In flitting flames…

Wishing to taste where

You perspire…

©

2017

Bunny Villaire