Thursday, December 4, 2008

Run


photo from Deviant Art


Run…

Floorboards creaking beneath my feet

with lies and treacheries

Freshly manicured nails holding small curves

of heated lust

Don’t look back…

That primitive call just a little

evolutionary slip…

Teeth and tongue grazing

a golden ring

and spitting out

long forgotten vows.

7 comments:

Marty said...

Wow, this is scary and sexy. =O









My word verification is "mines"
(it could have been minefield with a post like this!)

Id it is said...

A 'raw' outpouring! Betrayal makes one emote like never before!

I'm curious about the inspiration behind your writes...

Good to see you back.

Chandini Santosh said...

The real depth of life comes out in times of distress. Hope all is well with you.

petra michelle; Whose role is it anyway? said...

A beautiful metaphor and expression of relational complications and disappointments!

Cynthia said...

Wow, blanca rosa, this poem of yours is like a find leather glove
over steel. Quietly powerful.
Love, holding small curves part.

please visit my new blog here:

http://poemflesh2.blogspot.com

petra michelle; Whose role is it anyway? said...

Hi Shell, Wanted to let you know that I passed The Proximidade Award along to you. It's my way of saying how special you're writing is! And as the recipient, you should make the rules to do with it as you wish!

mysticgmekeepr said...

WOW, just WOW!
I sure hope I can find my way back here to this mine of golden nuggets.I feel richer for my visit.