Flying Spider-Scorpions

Naked tall spider-scorpions

flying solo over our heads

in thick brush

aimlessly towards a bullseye-target.

 

She mutters this,

lies

no more awake now

than an hour before

when she deeply,

emphatically,

expressed her undying love for me.

 

I don't know of any

naked tall spider-scorpions,

but somehow,

I can still see their exoskeletons

shattering...

heaven-sent, beastly...

 

She is drunk on love and power,

on emotion;

or rather, the desire for...

and sanity, and madness.

She is mad, mad like -

wildfire...

 

devouring her childhood

in one uncontrollable night,

one wild, mad night,

one she claims to neither care about,

or even know of.

 

Drunk on gin again,

tucked safely away into the night,

I lie...

sipping through bits of ice,

pulling through little bits of comfort,

dreams of her linger

long after...

 

Naked, poisonous spider-scorpions,

steal away, steal away violently...

she warns without knowledge.

I can feel her madness.

I can feel her warmth,

filtering, flowing, entering into me...

drunk on her power and love,

as the poisonous stinger drift silently past us,

hiding in the brush.

In dreams, she holds me safe.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think of the last line.

Reviews

[laceyjane23]

this poem kind of confused me, but i still enjoyed it! although it reminded me of the time i was stung by a scorpion! none the less it is a very, very creative piece! keep on writing i enjoy reading your work!
laceyjane