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red nails

she has red nails  
she drags them like scythes across my back  
in the gales of our human storm  
 
we hurry songs of the present, when the future is bleak  
I don’t speak. my body invokes its own foreign language  
she translates, and discovers a fiery star in obsidian carnage  
 
with her red red mouth, she preaches that pain is pleasure.the bites she  
bestows upon my shoulders are the blessings of lecherous gods, fashioning  
bliss from rose-thorns, prescribing sexual abandon as the cure for mediocrity  
 
as I lick the aqueous substance from her skin, I imagine  
Christ engaging his magic, rearranging molecules,  
changing her sweat droplets into redeeming wine  
 
should the Archangel entreat us now  
we would gladly soar with him on our own wings  
to the mansions of a rain forest paradise
 
and if I die in this dream  
they can seal my coffin  
with red nails
Written by JohnFeddeler
Published | Edited 3rd Jan 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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