Instruction Manual For Loving A Pearl~

Through indigo curtains of velvet in a spice shop down by the Canal

you'll find me here reclined in an armchair

licking honey from my fingertips

my eyes like smoke in the light of oil lamps;

some nights I am such a throwback

 

I like my men with an edge in their walk

and colorless eyes like holes in their fine skulls

I like them preconceived in brutality leaned against speakers in a nightclub

tossing back Goldschlager shots ;

one night I met a monster

and when I licked the corners of his strong mouth

he tasted like cinnamon

as I crawled his skin with my fingertips

tasting his diamondback sweat with my skin

drinking him through my pores

 

Inside amber spiced cafes with men who forgot how to dream

I smile

captured by their fluid souls

their hollowed out lives

where nothing turned out as they had dreamed

I curl against the smoke from their cigarettes

my golden hips making symbols through the glaze

I capture them with ankle bells

and hair like spun gold down the length of my naked spine

 

There was a moment where I met the almost perfect man for me

he was beautiful and gold with black eyes like onyx

he poured his music down my throat without preamble

and pushed his mind against my skull

until I drowned hip deep in his own inhuman ardour;

I took him through the night back to my Pagoda

where he opened me against the dragon tiles by the raised bath

and dug his hands deep into my animal flex upward between his teeth

until my throat was a blaze of branching scars

but

he was not the perfect man

because he had no volition left after the sound of blood drops hitting the gold veins

embedded in Jerusalem stone

and the scales and notes unfurled from my back

into a lash of tail against his thighs

and I fell into the clusters of my spinning spirals

turned outward into blood and rage

claws

and eyes the color of stained glass

going down on divine murder

a circlet of a human Eucharist pressed against my ruby tongue

 

 Remember this;

I don't love like you~

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa.inc.

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

excerpt from . . . .

Reviews

[TAO]

I thought I might have been imagining this too; you have an affinity for the Japanese? Curious is all...

What exactly can we say about this poem? I'm finding it harder and harder to review your work (and make no mistake; the fact that it's becoming a challenge is that much more motivation to continue reading you). Why is it hard? Because, it's obvious you're brilliant. Your work is what I would liken to this secret I nearly unlocked in a dream laden bout of sleep paralysis; it was profound (to whomever disagrees, we shall only speak for ourselves)... It was something manifest in the voices of that which brought forth man from the dirt; life.

Your poetry has become, for us, something of a magic carpet ride and alludes to everything we wish to see made into what we would call reality. And what I love most about it is the darkness of it. It's like Disney reverting their stolen tales back to what the Brothers Grimm meant them to be. Ms. Selene, were I not imbued with a modicum of reason and sanity, I'd swear on my family, life, and god-self, that perhaps you truly were a goddess, all for the way you inspire Creation with your tales. If you are not the pinnacle, Mt. Everest herself doesn't know the meaning of "rise".

[Pax Analog]

Reads like a laceratingly magnificent Species upgrade. Sacred monster seeking sex seed. Screw scree scree!

Love the blunt noir wit of "I like my men with an edge in their walk/and colorless eyes like holes in their fine skulls" -- as if they were forged by gunfire.

Your genius is most intensely evident in a kind of fucktopic phantasmagoria, exploding entrails of incandescent desire. The voice of this sex ninja poet is that of relentless transhuman hunger. Beyond. Her insolent candy boys need to be Don Juan Rinzai, masters of skull-bursting worlds and hyperreal transparencies.

The soft irony of the title misty veils the supple rippling backbone of diamondfire certitude. This Species female mutant laser-eyed searches for impossible inevitabilities of the Living Word made Manifest as Pure Fire Undying.

[Hellslastwarrior]

tasting his diamondback sweat with my skin
drinking him through my pores
So disgusting yet so beautiful loved the poem and i loved the way you showed your sensantions through your wording.
ted

[AlieahRose]

SPEECLESS...
=]...

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

You are Anne Rice, Stephanie Meyers, Quentin Tarantino, and Charles Baudelaire rolled into one.

"The Poet is like this monarch of the clouds,
riding the storm above the marksman's range;
exiled on the ground, hooted and jeered,
he cannot walk because of his great wings."

Linda Marie

[Awdures]

What a very erotic encounter between a tigress and a strange samuri! Thoroughly enjoyed the metaphor which made the poem all the more enticing! Selene I love love your work!

[Adelia Alighieri]

Such a beautiful rendezvous between a 'beautifully crafted stranger' and a 'chocolate cream soldier'. The imagery is worth an imagination, I'd say.
You're an amazing writer. Keep it up.

[Quinn Blackburn]

Mmm, thanks for dinner :o)

[Bubo]

he poured his music down my throat without preamble
and pushed his mind against my skull
until I drowned hip deep in his own inhuman ardour;

The imagary in your work is just perfection, I am always in awe that you make me feel so much while reading you, and think "thats how I feel/felt",
the show of emotion is beautiful, and it reminds me of something supernatural, he being a vampire, such great imagination and use of words my friend.

[Ima]

BRILLIANT!!!

[Marianne]

What more is there to say ??

Your uniquely brilliant writing style is unsurpassed