Unfaithful Voracity

posted in: Poetry | 0

I don’t fall for that typical love that attracts bloodshot eyes.

Encapsulated in a pulsing red is a desire that repels me.

For with every beat of a heart, there is one in sync with mine.


And in whose chest I see no wall deterring me.

Of frivolous passion and soft ashen fears

That fell to the water and melted like liquid fire,

We are rare.

I listen for the dull thump that echoes over mountains.

There is none too honest and whole

That does not attract my quivering eyes.


Typical love is that vomit-inducing kind of transient that sifts

Through skeletal fingers, hungering for distasteful appetite.

Tunes reverb in flushed ears and I am merry

And I happily bleed out the sharp air.

That typical love that excites a million and more of starving souls?

Its voluptuous and tasty exterior is all addictive flavor.

My tongue craves only a hint of what it can give me.

So there.


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Creative writer, published freelance photographer and journalist, creative cinematographer -- "The fact of storytelling hints at a fundamental human unease, hints at human imperfection. Where there is perfection there is no story to tell." ~ Ben Okri

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