Stupor [bliss]

 
 
[A] black book  
falls in your lap  
parting your legs  
pulling the cover back  
licking your fingers  
turning the pages of my dead lover  
typing up each line like it were your own  
until I own you, like I own [you]  
cut you with my blade and boned you  
 
 
she died prematurely  
mysteriously, tragically  
it was an accident, like I told you  
like I told the hospital, the family, the cops,  
your honour, categorically  
it all comes down to a water tight [alibi]  
tight like the tourniquet, aubergine bouquet  
that you tossed in the air, like a hand grenade  
like an unfaithful wife  
off a cliff  
in the pitch  
at king tide  
washed away  
waves good bye  
hush and hiss my secret kiss  
I digress; [you] are my lover
I’ve missed  
 
 
the words, the sex, the chat, your shaved cat  
are just like I recollect, I collect  
take your calls, [hold] and pause  
while I listen to you sing like a child  
like pay for sex with a smile  
but you’re so [fucking] bent  
you accept I’m off my dial  
stroking myself into stupor bliss  
while we poke each other  
in con-verse  
on fuckbook  
on fetlife  
on skype  
and you send me photos of your kids…  
[adorable]  
 
 
 
 
This poem was written for the "stay creepy x0x0" comp.