Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Friday, March 09, 2007

Backdoors

Chrome vessels maul her thighs. In jaundiced clucks and and serrated stabs. Perforated breaths torn out of her chest. Hollowing covers. Shivering spirals echo the rape of her absense. Dead clouds in a dead sky. Crying tears already wept so often.

The vacuum of her cunt devours him. In monstrous heaves she chokes him all the way inside. Until there's nothing left to swallow except the slit of moonlight that decides the difference between them. The comma in every sigh that comes after this.

Insinuations scattered like dog shit. Willing us to step in them. His touch like cum on her face. Only serving to make her a victim.

He never loved her until she cried for him.

But by then it was too late.

4 comments:

Enemy of the Republic said...

His touch like cum on her face---oh, I like that line. Wow, you are good!

moonstruck maniac said...

The vacuum of her cunt devours him.... nice!!!

Cocaine Jesus said...

so many good lines. too many to pick a single one. this spits a venom that blinds. cracking stuff.

RuKsaK said...

indeed cracking stuff. i adore your writing. this one is right up my boulevard.