your silent fury
you taunt me
with the sick sweet slope of you,
draped between the bedposts in the hollows of my mind.
i blink hard
and my tongue sticks to parchment lips,
making it's way from end to end (in it's own good time).
it's like driving by a car crash
tragic and grotesque and strangely mesmerizing
when you can't help but wonder
when you can't help but stare
at the throngs of lights and carnage
scattered on the road.
it's a little like that
being held fast to your bloodbath
when your silent fury runs through me.

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