Sanguine

The lights are out, again
combing through sanguine
heights, floating in
gentle southern winds,
tiny beats of the heart,
fluttering inside the soul,
down a dark step, caressing your
cheek, along honeyed curves,
in the summer
night, still clinging to the
morning's edge, between
truth and monsters grasp, Death
promiscuous in the glassy-eyed
stare of the midnight
priest.

Flesh

Sadness locked in the
Thick evening air,
Like honey
Slightly tainted,
Cut me like butter
With a frozen flame
And blue skin,
In a singular place
She claims my
Soul
Torn fleshy parts
Clinging
To the aged bones
At the edge
Of certain vision
Stripped away in
Layers
Every night alone
A silent scream when the
Music stops
We're left standing
Weak
With a wish
Caught in a
Spider's web.