Full Throttle

Skrik

her throat is the
color of ruin
after my lips
swinging sling blades
hack carved rock from
wavering flesh

eyes cut bruises
and clouds make shapes
where hollows rest
with leather hands
sharp curves sleep their
too, like squatters

beneath angry depths
of molten slag
the red fossil
flesh is waiting
like hot air to
rise in cold rooms

Reviews

[The Dark Passenger]

Oh my God...
This is the most emotive piece of work I've read in a long time. It's just so beautifully crafted and amazing!
I almost started to cry, it's so full of heart and hurt.
Seriously fantastic- i wish I could say more... but I'm just really... speechless... haha.