Until the ovum opened like ghost skin,
Pooled like the ocean
And poured from my mouth.
I wasn’t aware of how god-like
We sinners could easily be.
Hieros gamosIn the wild, wind washed, beneath the hills below the skies,Hieros gamos by dy-ad
This temple is a body.
Came upon his inert rest. With lips still reddened and warm,
I sought breath in the valley of his mouth.
But empty spirits guide this house.
Cupped his chest to mine, captured by his musk
My lungs expand to weep.
Father, my brother, incest of kings.
Essence in your arms,
Names you bore for me.
ArmisticeHeadlong into war. Thrust at the dead men standing across the wall.Armistice by dy-ad
Melted down like bullets, they steady themselves. We steady ourselves.
An explosion of great Anarchy. A burning saint’s scream.
A collision of fools, a glorious bloodshed.
Shod in whimpered pleas,
And a smirk at my brother’s dead god.
Sunset's Deceased Memoriesdon't look back. -Sunset's Deceased Memories by atlantic-lungs
the inside of my eyes wants to play
slide shows of the 1990s because
remembering my teenage years gives
But i'll run through the pages of my
past if it means i can see you one
Girl as PoemShe was once a verse by BaudelaireGirl as Poem by Scarlettletters
something about flowers
that were loyal to none
and I kissed her
when no one was watching.
She was a stanza by Byron
who stood on
the white cliffs of somewhere
and praised her eyebrows.
She is nothing like summer
or a lost continent;
is too bold for that.
Her shoulders are not
or a battle to be won.
I thought she was a poem -
or maybe an ode
or sonnet -
words teased and woven
that beat and bled
upon my humble pen,
not the flesh and blood
of thighs and hips
ripening beneath my gaze,
waiting to be written.