"Burning"
He sits there
with his lion
of a heart,
burning
the dove
with its
virginal breast
bleeding in
the mouth,
ivory fangs
sinking into
the flesh deep,
piercing something
undeniably
good, until
the breath is
escaped.
This worn,
misshapen hand
reaches, unable
to release
the clenching jaw,
its destruction
visible from this
place, where I am
wrapped in
bubblegum ideals
and false pretenses
of hope.
Aleathia Drehmer 2007
Published by Wings of Icarus 9/07
1 comment:
...please where can I buy a unicorn?
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