Rippled motes break surface placid Fiery hair suggesting satin
Poems
Between the Cracks
Hear us now, the thrice-scarred youth
More?
You hungry for more? I ask as I pump The salty, thick serum You lust for throughout your quivering, firm body Slick from night duties Performed with a care Most would deem rare.
I’ll be Good
With feather-soft touches kissing flesh, I need you,
Past’s Plea
Though my scars knit together with reluctant ease I must consider which drive within myself I must appease Be it lust, wrath, or self destruction All must be fulfilled within mine minds construction Droplets of blood spilt here and there Hold but a knives edge to true despair What darkness lurks beyond belief Hold me … Continue reading Past’s Plea
Fire-Side Tales 