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Read MoreLife done spent getting ready to went listeningto a whisper crawl on the flesh, slamming the dooras the anvil drips, Mr. Goodbody's last drop of forgotten things, a sorrow none can't forget as "Jimmy Crack Corn"
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Read MoreIntoxicating fingers smooth as butter, as the touchbecomes a symphony caressing, anticipating a danceon my flesh with a kiss from Diablo whisperingtequila and lime hot as the brimstone indulgingthe night from the fingers of his chassis and darkCadillac, melting...
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I do like the dark side in writing. Thank you kindly.
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![Profile picture of Damian DeadLove]()
Powerfully penned, Adagio. I dig this one a lot. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
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Thank you, Damian.
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Read MoreNo cold moon interred in empty cupboards buried deepwith the scent of cheap cigars lingering sweet ashesof heavy bones whispering obsidian's glass neglecting the memory of closing chapters in contradiction's experience under the influence of inclement weather and cheap...
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Read MoreThe notorious empty space on my Lenovoghost of unspoken goodbye you left behind shifting the air with your shape, lingeringnear the Alt-Delete dripping tear of insomnia into a mug that you left behind when youupgrade to Windows 11
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Read MoreOrigin of shadows, predators of night nullifying light, born from the absence of all things. Hungryfor the souls of Genesis rising and creating parasites, called Homo Sapiens before the chickencrossed the road. Hosting the hunters. Eating their Wheaties
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I like how this poem blends sensuality with danger -the smoothness of butter colliding with tequila, lime, and brimstone. I feel the heat and intoxication of the imagery, like being pulled into a dark, reckless night that’s both thrilling and a little dangerous.