ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
just watching him
makes my ribs ache
for unleashed hell..
for it's a rare man
who has the patience
to bleed me dry.
He's at the bottle again
while my emerald skirt
dances madly over the lawn..
He fires up the grub
with a ravenous growl
as my company asks:
'What the hell is that'?
That is careful chewing, I smile.
And he doesn't like me watching him eat.
One of them nods
and tells me
I should make a run for it
Yet I do not move -
His eyes are that familiar blue
I'd cling to his back,
if he'd let me..
We'd fall together
landing in a heap
of entwined limbs
and snarling lips,
this wet sliding
eating us alive.
It's times like this
I don't need a translator
to understand his words.
To me -
he's a jaguar in long grass
And I love
the wink in his eye,
the tug on my leg,
and the way he has..
of delivering
bad news.
makes my ribs ache
for unleashed hell..
for it's a rare man
who has the patience
to bleed me dry.
He's at the bottle again
while my emerald skirt
dances madly over the lawn..
He fires up the grub
with a ravenous growl
as my company asks:
'What the hell is that'?
That is careful chewing, I smile.
And he doesn't like me watching him eat.
One of them nods
and tells me
I should make a run for it
Yet I do not move -
His eyes are that familiar blue
I'd cling to his back,
if he'd let me..
We'd fall together
landing in a heap
of entwined limbs
and snarling lips,
this wet sliding
eating us alive.
It's times like this
I don't need a translator
to understand his words.
To me -
he's a jaguar in long grass
And I love
the wink in his eye,
the tug on my leg,
and the way he has..
of delivering
bad news.
Literature
Turf.
Father-
We tore up the seedling grass you and I
planted so
painstakingly
We were outside watching it grow, we are
philosophers
little pure stalks in chocolate-
pie earth
But it is spring and we are young
And the pastime of the nimble is
hand-springs
Literature
genetic
and
i was a landslide; you should have seen me
desperate for the
alcoholic lungs in my chest
to swallow the sea
like it had done before
when i wanted to drown
in the same
rigor mortis of my ancestors
before me
Literature
uprising
I am rebellion.
the fleeting revenge
of a people crushed in
subservience
clenches in my teeth;
recalcitrance is my torch,
my pitchfork, and my
guillotine all.
I, thick with dignity
and obdurate pride,
will not be left for the vultures
without seeing first that
your own bones are bare.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
"Party's over, folks.
It seems we're out of booze."
It seems we're out of booze."
© 2011 - 2024 eqlrytes
Comments19
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Oh wow - just brillianT