Post by Aish on Apr 30, 2014 13:21:29 GMT -5
v.3
The moon is high and full
but I cannot save you.
In your heart you are a howling beast,
fickle to all but what you serve
in a given moment.
My tongue is the silver bullet
as I refuse offering you my unbroken throat.
Slick in blood you only feed empowered
momentarily; the hemorrhage a perfect song
for but a wink.
The winter in your veins is insatiable.
It pulses like the tides during perigee,
lucid and hungry.
I won’t let you steal the honey from
my ribs in greedy mouthfuls. I
won’t stumble into your labyrinth
of hidden eggs and candy
the way you lure others who think they are geodes.
Your maw is a graveyard of teeth
carved with the names of the dead.
The inscriptions crawl toward me.
To love you with abandon
is to be gutted and deboned with a smile,
eaten beneath the snow moon.
======================================================================================================================
v.2
Though the moon is high and full
I cannot save you.
Howling, in your heart you are a beast
fickle to all but what you serve
in a given moment.
My silver bullet is my tongue,
my refusal to offer you an unbroken throat.
Slick in blood you would only feed empowered
momentarily; the hemorrhage a perfect song
for but a wink.
The winter in your veins is insatiable.
It pulses like the tides during perigee,
lucid and hungry.
I won’t let you steal the honey from
my ribs in greedy mouthfuls. I
won’t stumble into your labyrinth
of hidden eggs and candy
the way you lure others who think they are geodes.
Your maw is a graveyard,
teeth carved with the names of the dead.
The inscriptions crawl toward me.
To love you with abandon
is to be eaten beneath the snow moon.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Though the moon is high and full
I cannot save you.
Howling, in your heart you are a beast
fickle to all but what you serve
in a given moment.
My silver bullet is my tongue,
my refusal to offer you an unbroken throat.
Slick in blood you would only feed empowered
momentarily; the hemorrhage a perfect song
for but a wink.
The winter in your veins is insatiable.
It pulses like the tides during perigee,
lucid and hungry.
I won’t let you steal the honey from
my ribs in greedy mouthfuls. I
won’t stumble into your labyrinth
of hidden eggs and candy, like you lure
the others who think they are geodes.
Your maw is a graveyard,
teeth carved with the names of the dead.
The inscriptions crawl toward me.
To love you with abandon
is to be eaten beneath the snow moon.
The moon is high and full
but I cannot save you.
In your heart you are a howling beast,
fickle to all but what you serve
in a given moment.
My tongue is the silver bullet
as I refuse offering you my unbroken throat.
Slick in blood you only feed empowered
momentarily; the hemorrhage a perfect song
for but a wink.
The winter in your veins is insatiable.
It pulses like the tides during perigee,
lucid and hungry.
I won’t let you steal the honey from
my ribs in greedy mouthfuls. I
won’t stumble into your labyrinth
of hidden eggs and candy
the way you lure others who think they are geodes.
Your maw is a graveyard of teeth
carved with the names of the dead.
The inscriptions crawl toward me.
To love you with abandon
is to be gutted and deboned with a smile,
eaten beneath the snow moon.
======================================================================================================================
v.2
Though the moon is high and full
I cannot save you.
Howling, in your heart you are a beast
fickle to all but what you serve
in a given moment.
My silver bullet is my tongue,
my refusal to offer you an unbroken throat.
Slick in blood you would only feed empowered
momentarily; the hemorrhage a perfect song
for but a wink.
The winter in your veins is insatiable.
It pulses like the tides during perigee,
lucid and hungry.
I won’t let you steal the honey from
my ribs in greedy mouthfuls. I
won’t stumble into your labyrinth
of hidden eggs and candy
the way you lure others who think they are geodes.
Your maw is a graveyard,
teeth carved with the names of the dead.
The inscriptions crawl toward me.
To love you with abandon
is to be eaten beneath the snow moon.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Though the moon is high and full
I cannot save you.
Howling, in your heart you are a beast
fickle to all but what you serve
in a given moment.
My silver bullet is my tongue,
my refusal to offer you an unbroken throat.
Slick in blood you would only feed empowered
momentarily; the hemorrhage a perfect song
for but a wink.
The winter in your veins is insatiable.
It pulses like the tides during perigee,
lucid and hungry.
I won’t let you steal the honey from
my ribs in greedy mouthfuls. I
won’t stumble into your labyrinth
of hidden eggs and candy, like you lure
the others who think they are geodes.
Your maw is a graveyard,
teeth carved with the names of the dead.
The inscriptions crawl toward me.
To love you with abandon
is to be eaten beneath the snow moon.