Leaden feet walk past thistles that brush on flushed virgin cheeks
Moist with the nights humidity
Eyes glazed by streetlamps encased by a blurred glow reflect the night:
Pass me the rock
360 degrees behind my back, 24 second clock control to
get up in the game of friends
all breath no physical contact roaming along the edge of a paved
path through the breath of branches
A modern child of the night;
Drawn to the gentle call waiting in the brambles
Of a trunk, the stakes
Surround a crevice of an oak
the base entice
She falls into the V shaped legs of the earth
Down, grasping, closed eye lids thin with horror
Rolling in her head, grasping. Lost where there is no
Murmur on the planet
Why are you afraid of silence?
a sheen coat pinned onto a Cheshire cat
malicious, vicious, and slightly overweight
His eyes glimmer a little, and the incessant smile
Is character of man and never of mice
Let me hit you from the back
All I really want is hands in your chest; her eyes shut for the thrust
Basketball pounding,
It has to do with loving but
Its nothing nice. Knock me to the floor
If I wasn’t there already
The cat leaves and I fall upwards
A gritty little something on a suburban street
Surrounded by circles of blood, absorbed by the grass
Where she is playing to survive, pulsing, and bulging, swollen
Slit with fallen tresses mangled with dirt
Oh, she is wanting more