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Spot-Blotched

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gentle Claws
raking through meat
its Fangs
are soft
they Caress my skin
the Tendons of muscle
rippling
Scaly coats and fiery furs
- comfort objects to my eyes.
The hearts shake in fright
anticipations of impending Dooms
when Vile vixens kill white bunnies
Blood spurts out –
Red blood; lost Blood
the Stench of Life
Lost forever
- comfort objects to my eyes
the wind tugs softly
At his hair, at mine
his Frown deepens at my wrongs
and sins
but he won’t See
what is Just so very there
though when the Light pries,
those lashed lids crack –
and he sees, but he throws it all
away. Then those cold black eyes
Pierce mine
with an Arrow quite unlike Cupid’s
- but worse than Satan’s ugliest fork.
Like when big fat rain drops
blotch writing paper in ink,
leopard spots of salt water
on my hand fell just now;
And all throughout the night
shrieking -
the wind Spits and Hisses…
longlivities of trees
Venomously lost –
Cardboard roofs and matchstick walls
All Dead
- and they’re comfort objects to my eyes.
How his forlorn figure
rouses ache in my heart!
the void, the abyss
now
snarling agonies
As the hand which reached
to pat the black coated shoulder
was told to pat something else.
He walks across and away
across the shingles
and sandy bits of glinting gold
with waves lapping his boots
and the setting sun is ruby.
Tasting my vulnerability
the triumphant Snake returns
Flings poison and gold to my eyes
so tears leak and
Irises soaked follow the steps
These had yet to carry him far, far
beyond horizon’s reach and arms
but already, he had hazed,
wrapped in fading muzzles – no!
now a black figure
Obscured
against the gemmy orb
At length, darkness swept over
over our great distance
over patches of crimson sky
and
- and then I saw him turn
I saw him Turn.



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