Sexistenial Conflict

Sat, 05/03/2014 - 17:59 -- Browens

Naked Bodies look like winter,


gleaming white smiles through every pore.

Pulsating at the hind,

a sea of porcelian bees heave in unison,

A million panting mouths

dying as one body, one mind

At last

stealing grace from ecstasy.

A lifetime's purpose,

fulfiled in plunging with the upmost care life's fabled dagger at the heart of death

and falling,

four feet short.

A last bullet shot into the heart of everything that never mattere to start.


Naked bodies trickle slow

like a whisper through lovers hair and marvel

as it melts to thin film at their fingertips.

Seeding light into the surrounding darkness,

As if just to feel the life slip and drip from their grasp,

As if just to feel the reassuring shock

of cold heavy bodies painting the skin red,

As if just to remind themselves of their transcience.


Somewhere in that blistering cold,

in that blinding chasm of noise and hot breath,

it meant the world to be there.

Shivering together as one,

In that dark passion of filth and lust and empty space,

it meant the world

to mean so much in something without meaning.



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