80’s horror movies on videotapes sifted from
boxes sitting around for years doing nothing
heather langenkamp with those
cute lips and goofy front teeth and those vaginal eyebrows that speak
to me
of the wonders of desperate sweat
pyjamas then no pyjamas
hands around a throat
then fingers in the mouth with
streams of spit glistening on a hardened, glowing nipple that tastes as good as my mother’s did
some three decades before
reel around the fountain
images involving sacrificial goats and spiral staircases
that take you down to a pool of water
as ancient and holy as the womb of a cherished
lover that became just
another
other
and then before you know it
there’s four in the morning birdsong
with a little wine
and
a little time
perhaps more time we’ll ever know what to do with
A Journal for Damned Lovers UK
A Journal for Damned Lovers US
Categories: new poetry
A very profane post, atypical 4am thoughts
Such thoughts are often the most profound, aren’t they?
So true!