Petunia’s Meaning

“Those who aren’t used to luxury,”
                     she said, waving her fan,
  “once won, act as if they’re manner-born”
                  this pristine heiress is no friend
                                  to any single one —
                       yet her metallic precision
                                    shatters-me

                        So when she inevitably
                            ends flayed on my table
                               and her silk becomes
                                              my doily /
                                         I have to wonder

              what spice to ripen her broth
                                 or should I just guess
                                                         the flavor
                                                            is bitter?

–LM

                       

not another ghost

              You may glimpse
                            me between the trees

                         & not even _blink
                              
                       × rolls of tangled
                                     bramble shiver/
                               smolder maybe/even
                  exposing a pale waif
                       sw    >     ing<    ing
                     from sweet frenetic rope
     [left for dead/but she chokes]
             knotted|tighter than reality

                      clearer than Halloween
                             smoky as the seer
                        cringing when you
                               discern my song
                                       howling long
                                 covetous

                         I may petrify
                   daunt and compromise
                                           you
                       make the death chair
                                      appear __  palpable
                                

  look hard once the shrieking starts×

–LM
                                 

 

woe be the victim

The stains she left
                were not in your bed
       it was the spear she left in your head
               turning you against
                         [so cruelly against]
                                   《your own blood》

            She is manipulating you,
                       Dear brother,
                            milking your sympathy
                             with
                                         [alligator tears]

There is no depth | there is no surface
            Don’t throw your life preserver
                             don’t chastise me for
                                       your own blindness

       I do not belong to her as you do
             I’ve rid myself of Medusa’s spell
           & I have never been stone
                              that’s her specialty
               inside her reptilian mind
                       Death rolls & throes
                          twisting eternally
                            make love to the image
                    she projects

              fucking Oedipus complex

You’re her casualty

–LM

Tunes..

tarnished artist

White feather quills
             & marble busts
     wrinkled cash lying flat
                              atop agarwood
             can I portray you/
                         &   would you permit me
                                       my love,
 
                      could you forgive me
                             for [ENCASING] you
                                           incorrupt

–LM

complex questions/

So good it had to be posted twice.

sceadugenga

you asked what i saw
blindfolded on the rise:
trees aflame
with heat of suns
immolation to make way
for worlds without end
my hand held blind and
you sighed...
ashes fell black snow from
steel-grey skies
you cried...
but it was for my eyes
not for scenes described

merely a dream? like as not.

did cassandra dream?
did she taste black ash,
smell burnt offerings?
did her dreams scream?

i stagger at the thought
elbow steady in your hands

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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Ubiquitous

When the moon is ripe
    I wonder what it may be like
           to kiss you|suddenly|_softly.
       The moment is slow___
             yet contests my racing heart
                     & I know therein lies fantasy
                                                          abound

   I wonder at my own desires,
          bespelled by ancient oaths
                   We’re bound so
          [I know you’ll keep them]
                       safe

                   There are melted passions
                       strewn across my tongue
                         wet and pliable  [for you]
              If I wanted to play God I could not
                     though my wish would be not
                              for power but time travel
                                           & distance span

                 Madness simultaneously
                                    consumes &
                                   reveals all
                         lit like luminol
                  Let’s batter down these walls
                                      together
 
                                   &   if we couldn’t
                let’s make love before × them

-LM

Chef’s Kiss

Sizzling bubbling heat/
              wind it down
                                |
                                |
                             low

   inside/ the fire
            the smoke the embers
                          my flavor is free

& the chili

_{I promise}

       

–LM
                 

Capricorn 13° A fire worshipper ~ MAGIC — Sabian Symbologist ~ Saijin

“Ever a work in progress.” Capricorn 13° A fire worshiper ~ MAGIC Can’t stop me now! When you hear your own fire burning the decree, “Lead, follow or get out of the way!” Know that your divinity has spoken. You are welcome to go ‘round the block as many times as you please. But doing […]

Capricorn 13° A fire worshiper ~ MAGIC — Sabian Symbologist ~ Saijin

My Venus & Neptune placement to the degree.

gvnvigohida

I rub salve
            in all your fissures hoping
  you’ll let me make the decisions tonight
    because if I didn’t love you/
       I wouldn’t be consistently leaningagainst                      

         your shadowed
                                      doorstep

                            waiting for your light
                                  [meteor-fleeting-not/
                                       hot ball of fire, sun]

                    Everything is smoking
                     & I’m playing with the shards
                  seeing you as you dare not see
                                         yourself

& if I’m making you blush
          it’s a good thing
  it means: this peppermint oil is cooling
      shhh…         ●  I’ll be your tourniquet|

–LM