CREATIVE WRITING AND PROSE
SEDUCTION OF MOONLIGHT
The devil's at play in these striking hours, caught between worlds.
A seduction of senses trapped in lucid dreams that leave my body trembling.
Trickle the fingers down,
down
creep along the edges
sinking lower, beyond the line that divides my innocence in two.
Tilt the head as if seeking answers where they do not exist.
Neither sense nor reason, only impulse pervades my every undulated movement.
Time seems to blend each second
of an agitated minute hand,
racing me towards some orchestrated ending.
I am caught in the current that parts the lips and utters no sound
but that of my soul coming in and going out.
The angels whisper in their morbid curiosity,
disarming their intuitions to take the hand
of devils lust.
Feel the breath become heavy as heaven sinks into Earth,
and we are fallen without wings.
The body building in it's rapture and dismissal from grace,
God's own divine curse left naked on the altar,
a sacrificial offering that sends my core surging in beaded perspiration,
one pulsated triggering at a time.
The Bullet which rips like knives the human from the flesh;
Pouring out all which is left and soaking in it's ecstasy.
PAPER BAGGED PRINCESS
Scrap paper blowing in the wind,
words of all that was,
all that I am,
all that I could have been
crumpled and thrown to the trash.
Somehow I was caught in the wind and blew,
floating,
waiting,
hoping to land somewhere other than here.
I am a holiday toy wrought with guilt
that somehow I wasn't enough,
a pretty little play thing.
Doe eyed, painted smile, ruffled dress to cover the flaws.
What initially brought joy and
excitment of something new,
now grows weathered with time.
Interest seemed to wane.
Sat along the shelf to collect dust
like a bargain find at some last minute yard sale.
One's man's trash and another man's treasure.
Yet I lay covered in soot waiting to be discovered.
Empty days spent drifting,
a plastic bag in a westerly wind
..lost ...forgotten.
I, a memory , that simply faded
when all I do is remember.
I felt every sting,
I felt every toss of the hand
as my love was thrown to the trash
time and time again.
The dress has come unraveled,
the paint smears and the seams rip and tear
spilling out the only part that's left.
I am a paper bagged princess,
waiting for her prince,
waiting to be treasured.