Not this time

I stare through the grey that slivers the azure sky...


Lips pressed to window wish only to breathe
pure
once
more

Eyes stained by ink that pours from the soul long to see
clear
once
more

Curve of ears crave to hear
sound
once
more



The edges are smudged to grey; a charcoal reminder of where
the fire once burned

You wish to bind me, ankles and wrists
with words
words...
words that promise warmth, but leave only shadow

Over the edge
push and empty the well of its ink
Clings to the fingers, seeps
permanent stain remains

Smeared pain to curled parchment
I write
and write...

This is the thumbpress to the heart
The lines that come from the core
The ebony flow


When did the thirst for raven turn to gold?
A desire for ruby
the taste of wine,
become uncertain,
crossing the line

Slip of lips;
bite of tongue,
A thirst for red
Left standing to swallow
all that could not be said

Searching for the burn
through the thinnest red line
Grasping the dagger,
which way will it turn?

Pointed
the verse leaves its mark
Fierce
I've cut my teeth on sharper souls

Exposed
Slice the straps, drop the cloak
Reach up
Slit the clouds to beg for the bleed of water
that washes clean

Sliding through air
to burn with the sun;
My heart beats
yet the blood can't run

I won't be stretched to fit
the canvas of your dream
Live with this stain
absorb into skin

Cut
let the quill pierce the vein;
pulse
there is poetry in this body

Broken promises laid to altar
strike the match and burn every line
Unwrap this melancholy gift
Refine

Loosen the ties that bind
the flesh to bone;
the beat to forbidden rhyme

Break
Walk away
Your call to the wind will not cause my turn
Not
        this
                   time...