Spiders Feeding.

 

The sparks in your eyes grow fingers.
Each one wrapping around my neck
Sucking the air out of me,
Until I’m dry and shriveled
And panting.

Screams settle around us as thick fog.
…I can’t see past your chest, anyway.

A lighter flickers a few times.
Starting at my core,
Then burning me alive,
One cell at a time.
Ripping me apart
From the very means I came into being.

Backwards birth.

I’m biting the urge,
To crawl inside you
And hide.

Dust rises into the air slowly.
Like a disease creeping.
Spiders feeding.

You clear your throat.
I bite my finger nails.
We glance,
Look away.
The tick of a clock.
Faucet drips in another room.

The intensity can’t be measured,
Inside my chest.
If you chose to open my lips,
It would spread like wildfire.
Burn us all.
Tear us to shreds,
Then devour us whole.
Nothing makes me feel this way.

One last look,
And I’ll
I force my heart into your lungs.
Breathe in my needs.
I’m gentle like machine guns.

Reviews

[Raef C. Boylan]

I might not have viewed this as a compliment without the 'descriptions' hint, but once you point it out, readers can see that your narrator is saying that she's overwhelmed by this other person's presence.
I can't tell exactly whether a sexual act is taking place, or just serious desire, but the descriptions and imagery that you've used are very powerful.

Great last line - cynical/sinister/teasing...i don't know but i like it.
"I'm gentle like machine guns."

p.s.
"Tear us to spreads" (shreds? or wordplay?)

[Emily B]

Damn! I don't quite have words. Passionate, maybe, I hope that it's taken in the spirit it's meant. I can't think of any higher compliments than you've crafted here. It's such a strong work that I was spellbound with each word.