And here I am sitting,
Gnawing, and licking.
Gnawing on your bones.
I don't need your flesh,
Your blood.
It's your framework,
Your ivory white.
What keeps you standing.
And I'll chew,
And chew,
In this ghost town room.
And then I come running,
And scratching,
Scratching on your door.
Pawing like a cat,
I can't take any more.
But I know you're not there,
You're on the train with your bones,
And I'll lay on the cold ground,
And laugh,
Because I know who I am,
And I know what your bones taste like,
And I'll chew, and gnaw forever,
Forever on your bones.
1 comment:
477
: VC
You've described a love,
like Greecian scupltures, purest marble,
tinted with a shade of jade;
so grand this love described
so strong as seem to weather the age,
to stand forth as examples for those in the future.
I listened, mind envisioned such beauteous details,
with fierce yet gentle eyes,
which hold a gaze only such godlike creatures can gaze.
There lies sensuous curves, and so serious a chin to defy all in question
how love is intend for the fortunate.
Ah but here too unmentioned a love,
a love kept silent throughout the years,
And it shines like a midday sun,
to settle its light upon a continuous stream.
So clear one can see the pebble's colours,
small swishing fishes could be seen feeds.
The describe may not be any precious material-
appreciate by fellow man,
but a forest filled with trees-
along both sides the stream it ran.
For when the gentle rain or wind-
causes the leaves to sing,
to think your love the riches, reflects then dim,
as the unsung pulse with faceted light throughout the four seasons.
Fin.
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