Writer in San Francisco, CA
Devouring destruction delivers demeaning
demands don dawdling dames devouring devils
did discourse destroy doomed dolls dabbling
declaring damnable deceptions?
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Quiet spectacles of affection slip under
the radar of others in a crowded space. Pulsing
with the beat of life, a quick kiss and grip,
skin on skin, a heart race, makes the sun shine
brighter, blue skies burst. The intimacy, a quiet creation
of woven strings sewing one to the other, pulling them
tighter together.
Liked this poem? Try these:
slip into something a little more suffocating,
let water seep in and pull you down into
the darker abyss into the endless night,
a hollowed whale cry echoes out to
cradle as you sink in deeper
and deeper into the quiet.
Whispering leaves shiver, spine cracks under foot
and the wind whips up the crumbles to batter them
against the gray stone Victorian that sits grandly on
the street. Another fall, another winter, spring, and summer
when the fog presses firmly down, the fine mist swirls
and covers whispering leaves that shiver in the wind.
owl spins, eyes linger on bush, on stone,
on dark crevice. a rustle. eyes bore, a softness
presses under feathers as the owl lifts, to
glide to snatch up a plump gray mouse.