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prescient tension
by Laura Doom
if I were to pit my palms
against this skinny guilt-snared stomach
my fingers would freeze
shatter
plummet
encrypt the discontent and save
not for security but self-preservation
to snatch the anaclitic kiss of cryogenesis
if you were to do the same
moisture would drip
from every artifice
of my cadaver
rinsing sweat from tainted tissue
swilling sweetness round my hollowed eyes
and we would feign evaporation
long into the light
each synthetic high an analgesic flight
07/16/2012 Posted on 07/16/2012
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 07/16/12 at 12:38 PM There should be no guilt in what comes naturally. Good write lady. |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 07/16/12 at 03:33 PM After several trips to the dictionary, this poem thawed into something very beautiful--quite unlike the freeze/thaw continuum I thought I was reading. But then there's the complication of synthetic feigning ... |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 07/16/12 at 11:42 PM Erotic in the way an early David Cronenberg film is erotic. So, basically, it's awesome. |
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