Category: Filí my pockets
-
Royal Lions in Line for Titles
When you’re in love, it can be look started Silk surplus curtains back peeled, parting. Looks darting. Revealing a jewelled stag and a diamond-mouthed pine marten. Horned me. Dark, darkest and stormy Inside the door, a worm-eaten portal. Vermeer this sky, a fatal bride. Neither safety nor bridle. Nothing confided By that unbright Titan’s silent…
-
Jamming the treads
Usury. Luciferian use of me No such thing as use for free No such thing as abuse to me Silk masked servant’s toothsome glee Bird-backed serpent, acid-slurping merlions curled at boundary lines. Hell’s appleside sky foundry climbed, which strident harpies fly. Fur-lineds, blurred lines, earnings, ermines, hair ties, brassiere wires. Rings split along the side.…
-
Exposed shoulder
The pentapointed shadow Of a hand I pointedly spurned not one hour ago Accents my face Before I stand. Counterpoised, the opposites dance Stolen our only glances And duly frozen the mammoth of my mood The uncold, ragless shoulder Extolling some arousing uncouthness.
-
Happiness pill
Melody winged, her saintly wicked I saw last night Outside my lonely titan thicket A picture of a shining trident like a sky-done wicket Melanin-tinged her painted fingertips linger She sings pain, her baited breath like some movement’s best phrases Her left snaking down the cliffs of her body, toward the cleft Her clit is…
Alchemisland 