The velvet of night cascades shadows of cataracts, when the sun goes down. Peeling away the flesh of day…The darkness becoming my illicit lover, masturbating my quill. The ink surrendering its sweet muscatel to your waiting tongue. Ravenously you swallow this union with ecstasy dwelling in the soul where the pulse meets the rhythm of the shadows, in 50 shades of insanity.








Sensual and dark in it’s own right.. good poem!!
Thank you, Chrstopher.
This is simply awesome, my friend! Dark, mysterious, spiced up with creative, empressíve pictures and comparisons.
Thank you, Elke.
So much dark intrigue woven into so few words that quickly gripped me by the throat.
Thank you, Harriet.