I closed my eyes and watched
The curtained insides of my eyelids;
Maniacal symphonies of their screwing,
Dinned into my mind,
For they were one in ecstacy atop
A mountain;
But the lions inside her had already,
Picked my bones clean;

Paralysed by impotent anger
Was my faculty of intelligence;
As her sharp little teeth gleamed,
I gave her a long detailed look;
Out of the blue, something tiny
Erupted in the sky of her eyes;

Our eyes touched out of courtesy but
Quickly looked from the magnetism,
Seeing the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
Off in my waking dreams do I
Love o'er that happy hour;

She blushed with love, and virgin-shame,
And like the murmur of a dream,
I heard her breath my name;
I gazed upon her face
‘Gevevieve, partly love, and partly fear
That I might rather feel than see
The swelling of her heart'.

I yearned for her painted claws to close
My fist,
Whose eye had already paid the bride price
To tears of corn;
Clasped behind my back,
Were the hands born out of respect;

Tears flowed from the almond ovals
Of my eyes;
Rags blackened by axle grease clamoured
For her,
As they drowned inside their hearts;
Feeling a warm glow flooding
Through her body,
I felt mortified as my God given bulbs
Beamed at her,

The sequinned party dress she wore
Made me to feast on carcasses of
Imaginations,
On daydreams born of day and nightness;
Mine mind masturbated on worthy dog's
Greatness,
Yet their daily honeymoons couldn't exorcise
The decay of the sand in my hourglass.

She married the wicked Lance of Longinus
Who slit her heart that bled bitter milk and
Tear-soaked love.
I wish I were infant and naive and blind and
Dead,
For a love which only pains as it swells
Dwarfs the stench of death and hell.

© Danny the Writer