Perverse

One Response to “Perverse”

1. on Jan 2008 at 11:08 am1S.Kartsonis

   What haven’t we read, bled; been written-by, written-out, ridden-by, ridden-out; our selves slashed up and down, our mouths smeared across mouths. We are lipsticked, half-blind, mirror-imaged, undone. Desires turn in the pond of our emptiest selves. We are sleeves for our own severed arms, tucked into the waistband and dreaming of hands—warm with a cardiovascular heat, warm with a soul’s wish for a touch before dying. We have waited too long, our blood gone stony, our flesh bloodless, not breathless but unbreathing, nothing in us rushes to greet anyone at the door. Our lips lock with dead lips.
   We are left wanting.

       +2 Rating

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