Tuesday, November 01, 2011

The Two of Swords

I am the vixen;

you desire and you

slurp the pestilence

from my fingertips.

You miss my madness

massed by mitosis.

A glistered gyre

of dysfunctional

fraudster families

and of faggetry.

Jilted and jaded

I have gorged the blood

of those I ‘ve known.

Gnawed on their hearts,

until submission.


You, passionate prince

You spirited soldier

(Sought after my core)

nearing this succubus

Posing in slumber.

You’ll submissively

swish against my jowl

and tumble on my

tempting, sultry tongue

and when your flavor

loses piquancy

I will retch and retch

depleted remains

into a hoard of

carcasses, leaving

me penurious

and lascivious.


Sprawled now on my

Bed of solitude

I weep over my

Want I had for you.