Come in, my harbinger of flesh
My bayonet of light, king and lord.
I am your war and you are my cause
In this ache for a certain slice of violence
The raw taste of the root of life
The blade of the soul, sharp and clean and precise
Building like a waking of the limbs, a tearing of the hymen
And of lacerations born from birth, a lovely offense
It cuts open that which leaves ignorance and naivete
And that which touches the tip and toe of existence
Love, my love
With which scissored embraces fill the dance
One on careful ballets on broken glass
Come in, my harbinger of breaths
My bayonet of lust, adrenaline rush.

(c) 2013
Vivien Marie Lopez Jorillo


Protected by Copyscape Duplicate Content Detection Tool
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.


Go. Moan. Scream. Tell me if you like it. Make some noise.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s