Wednesday, January 4, 2012

glass slipper and a howling heart

midnight has come
so have i
to the conclusion that some eyes are better left undotted
unless you've spotted the moon's metaphor 
long before the hand strikes
the likes of which are far and few
yet somehow i always knew i'd find my place under the sun
for every glass slipper there is the one perfect fit
and for every battered belief there is a tiny slit across the left ventricle
higher pressure
more muscular
thicker blood
thirstier flesh
do you dare look into darkness seeking light?
or dip your tongue into the chaos of the night?
only the brave few
as the earth bends herself into prostration
approaching her perihelion
elliptical orbit
fashioning seasons out of stardust
swaddling intimacy in layers of lust
the heart howls as the moon’s womb swells 
bearing the distance between heaven and hell

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