When The Prey Becomes The Predator~

Bleeding emeralds from her eyes

she hobbled his unstable salvation with a kiss

full of sharp teeth

dug her fists into the irresponsibility of his past

pulled his beating pulse

into the cheap modesty

of a servile future

drenched in white pages

lace sleeves edged in blood

 

She came in fury

pierced through with virtuous style

the gun like sleek love against the small of her back

tucked into her hip huggers

his hopeless surrendering over blackjack in the bend

of the table

ironic;

she licked the salt off the rim of the martini glass

her inclination

of hip against his thighs

binding the broken arches of his age

into the masterpiece of her fragrant seduction

 

When she stood at the tower window

his thorns embedded in her tongue

she was a child

lost in bitter waves of men without remorse

sickness edging silver rose bouquets they'd lay

at her tiny feet

before they took her cheek and pressed its angel softness

against their fever lips

while, confused

she pulled back into a tulip flame

and mourned her skin from behind the sun

 

When she walked budding ghost thickets through Manhattan

men wove their quick, cool hands through the golden locks of her hair

and her nightdress

as she stood apart from the world

unwilling mistress

thrashing against cords of silk

as the gypsy songs deepened her into surrender

and he pressed his metal knife against her throat

an animalistic prelude

to a trip to the cafe

where she gently struck the spoon against the china cup

shattering her body into bridal judgments

the container of cream upended and covering her thighs;

he laughed

the sound like a stunned etching at the base of her spinal cord

 

She walks an atmosphere of violence

judges from the other side

her romance with tears long gone

the scarlet of their sins paralyzed against her voluptuous needs

she moves into them, through them like a blade

thirsty

for the battlefields of their bodies now bent over years

she smiles

crawls their sinuous souls with serpentine spin

undulating

fatal moments like candied swans

morphing into trigger fingers of alloy

 

She gave him a wire rose

lingered for a moment in his liquid desert colored eyes

"I must be leaving soon." she whispered, "but I wanted to tell you this. . . . ."

 

"They told me way back in never land that if I made a dress out of skye, the moon,the sun and the donkey skin, that you would never find me. But you found me every night and every day.  I never really had a chance, did I?"

"Stories are for children," said the monster, "there are no happy endings."

 

she flowered into blood above his nature

and put the silver bullet between his eyes

 

 

copyright:2009vssmd/pa.inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

excerpt from . . . .

Reviews

[Morning Star]

This is a very beautiful write as my eyes dance from beginning to end
I truly love how you, Stepped out of the shadows from a world where
Fantasies dwell,How i love the imagery and vividness your words
Placed on my mind as always my sweet friend
A joy to read your brilliant work!
wishing you a great Day!!

[Robin]

this turnng point -
"fatal moments like candied swans

morphing into trigger fingers of alloy "

exquiste ....

[Quinn Blackburn]

Purrrrfection! Thanks for the tasty fare today :o) much appreciated!

[Maurice]

Fantastic write! I'm truly speechless after reading this.

[Kimber L]

I love this one!

[Brad]

sadness, you unfold peices of yourself in each verbal diorama you write. is this an acceptance of a role given or forced? i love the way you metaphor...it's always a pleasure to play your words on my own tongue

[Dream Weaver]

I just love the tittle.
but loving the write
even more..chills up
and down my spine ;-)