I worship & chant deliriously
In a language fast & frantic
Waxing shadows like winter's whispers
As the beat within my head
Produces screams like singing
I think of you
Always recalling
The day I ripped you
Your sweet blood on my tongue
And the smell of it all over
Sweating
I incubate these urges
But my vision is black
And the shine has gone
From the boy I was

01/01/2001

Posted on 06/20/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jon-Jacob F Deal