poet malva

the place for malva's poetry

Sunday, January 29, 2006

the prey

your rank breath tasted of sour milk
car grease embedded in your fingernails
black soot pressed in the creases of your hands
fear, your sweet opium
sos - i seek refuge
who will rescue me from
you, a restless sexual vulture -
a vortex that hungers insatiably
fear anger shame hang thickly
an impenetrable fog

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