Flesh Phoenix
Mitch Green
Flesh Phoenix
Mitch Green
A blast of brilliant light separates the earth and sky.
Filtered gravel garnishing the glow and grit of glorious
existence. Surreally sensational, a sensual scenario.
Sweetly sexual, as she lies, sleeping before me.
Before me, barely sleeping, bare and afraid,
sacred and scared. Slimming dead in depths
of discographic segmentation. She becomes
the single archetypical animal.
The rabid romantic.
The defective atom
pending perilous
evaporation.
She implodes spiritually.
She’s exposed privately.
She stirs steam and smoke to stream arousal.
She’s white hot.
A hot petite picturesque,
falling to pieces at the seams.
Abducting me savagely,
darling, abduct me violently.
Extract the imagery, all that
is me physically. I want to
be rid of woes, of worlds,
of religion, of existing.
I want the planets to collide -
I desire to taste the
finite morph me.
Humans like us were made gentle., flicking through memories, soundless through time of past to present. We resonate with this reality of hours and years spent separated. Daylight commences to wane, dissolve below the line of sky and sea, and the sight of this seaside dwelling switch into a location of picket houses and parked machines. with all the love a universe could conceive. We are all colored in a weathered world where the sun still stings the same.
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