An electric voice tickled my groove,
abstract shapes on the titan blur….
it bit with a bolt through trembling rust
from a coat of flesh to bare the wires
waking an age for minding the stage
with invisible eyes on unseen highs
winging a glance for lines in {sigh}
by glassing a face to hunt the brim
adorned in the scorn of an hourglass gaze:
waxing an ax through the waning path
of a cog to dog ‘til blind with pain-
where feisty pink ribbons howl at the moon
through placid blue releases
from hollowed thrums with brutal hum
fingering the hardened crouch of a harsh winter Sun
whets free this spark that haunts my lungs
when I feel too much for clocking numb-
it’s on the night sky wheeze
where it licks the sand like a torch on skin
with soft messages etched in eldritch itch,
a lingering dithering
stranded dreams
as the distant scream
swallows us whole:
slithering raw from the smoking craw
still holding dear to a sizzling near
sang to glass at the lapsing pass-
laugh & gaze this gibbering age,
face the grace of a crawling mend
there’s a winged {sigh} on the titan blur
that’s the heartful voice of a fleshing groove
Phenomenally penned, Benjamin. Fucking fantastic wordplay, great imagery as well my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
This is a very interesting piece. “where feisty pink ribbons howl at the moon” really good line
you are very gifted I feel you on the highs of writing 💕