The pattern on her face, cracked and interrupted, coughed and consumed,

The colours of her cheeks dragged into her mouth, the dust and shades,

Her eyelashes twitching and besotted, her teeth embalmed wine purple,

The inhaled laughter totally restricted, inward-turned, inward-massacred,

He slams his weight into her feet, the tongue on his gluttonous lips, deserted,

And jaded, sucking on what her fingers had prepared, a salivating spinning wheel

Lubricating his own demise. The lacework of her powdery bones chuckled and

Sparkled underneath her garments that he chose for her, the figure, an orchestra,

Unimagined fatality, her requiem-directing hands, her murmuring gulp, the

Pickpocket possessed by a long and revengeful memory, the doorknob ripped out.

 

There were hands and fingernails pulling on her skin, left and right,

Nobody paid attention to the ones within her, she tried to sharpen the

Edges of her silhouette, weaponise her corps de femme, tridents across their

Skeletons. She stared over at her, how she got their better sides, the ones that

Knew how to behave, the loving ones, in order, natural. After obsessing over her

Neighbour’s story and audience, she stepped back into herself, pierced by the

Crowd that gathered around her since she could remember, fern green with envy

And rage of injustice, she ate the heads of those who’d see her as a thing to lick clean,

A body to vandalise, skin put on the map for territorial debates and gluttony, away with

The sexualising lechers, the grime-infested libidos, the rotten mouthfuls of her

Treacherous forefathers, heirloom lethargy,  hands in prayer, cock in her mouth,

Stab wound.

 

She regarded the symmetry of women as flooded fortresses withstanding

The men’s raucous-inducing and calamity-treading open-mouthed waves.

Cemented in foul water, rooted in insemination, feet forward, chins high,

Hair pulled from the fluidity below, porcelain grimaces, cracks near the mouths,

Earthquakes from the basements, the muscle mass, hands, more like fists,

A-knocking on the texture of their mossy walls. The male teeth, serenading,

Violating brick by brick, the tenor throat flirting with the hallucination of

Soprano cinders, on his chest, in his face, conquered, smacking, absorbing

The female resistance, his lips asunder, guttural kisses, never on her knees,

Sky-bound and trees, the interwoven crowns and weaves of fortitude,

Mastering weather’s faces and temperaments without batting an eye, his

Element studied, festered and arrested, moulding and screeching, stuffed,

She studies him hard.

woman face
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

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