Geek as the Gimp

I want to believe
the black bitter sorrow
that soaks my skin through
with spill'd cardiac stench
can be sweetened & sipped, still
like steaming temptation

--like wild habit fuel
that strips skips & slips
past all hesitation
to hunt for your jewel...

(O! Heart like a teacup--
all worn, chipp'd, yet dainty--
grown narrow with age...)

1 comentari:

Anònim ha dit...

love this, David, it's really a wonderful poem in so many ways...

ps am mentioning you in recent blog post