"Snowy White"

It is the tongue that bites
My senses, pulse of wetness seeping through me. Redness roaming. Redrum drumming.
Into pathways lost to my eyes. Wendy spies.
Somehow unaware of yesterday and her husband wonders all her wonder or pain.
I found - a red fire glows. Embers sparking in dust yards of yesteryear ashes.
Who lies buried in that caretaker mass grave?
Unknown to me.
Twin souls lost beneath a red sea.
A nameless mass that grows in multitude under fireflies and charred earth.
Am I to grow from this if someone wets my seed?
Can I see beyond circumstance, embrace an axed eternity in my hands?
Arms ache with the desire to hold.
237
To touch.
Caress beneath folds of skin, curves of life.
Warm blooded glow of soiled earth mixed with flames and liquid red.
She begins to move. To sway. To live. Inhale! A slip of air seeps through the covering of darkening clay.
Sun beats her shape to grow from her watery womb into night's air.
Light you. Bite you.
Come catch me if you dare to follow my footsteps into the dark wooded green of my moiste home.
Wet. RedWet. 11 fold
Drilling leaves.
Growing old under a sold soul.
Slowly growing mass of humanness rising from the redrum flames.
Broiled to perfect temperatude.
Alight with life, she begins to see. Perceives the light.
The Red And dark.
How they change and glow.
She deems her mouth for consumption, safety.
A bite can chomp the limbs off yummy branches or hands or doors or hardened foes.
I grow. I die.
In silent splendor of solitude.
The tree in the forest that no one saw falling.
Overlooked the hills. The cold. The anger.
Resentment turns golden red.
Like the color of my lover's look before I took his life.
And mine.
I took his life.
Then mine.
No one knows it's rising. Yet all feel her heated presence. All know she lives. Protect her, cry she-wolf sisters gathering around her in circles formations.
My kind changed. Disguised the life I knew into something unkind.
Her vulnerable new ness her fresh understanding -infinite compassion. - dangerous.
Not all may understand what she is or why. Wendy why.
Danny can fly.
There need to be markers. Lipstick kisses on the redrum room.
Ways of helping so we can survive and live and live for all of us. She escapes. Leaves. Falls away. Regains again the lost amplitude. Aptitude of her freedom. Dust to dust needs no protection.
I drew myself a map of the world. One where mountains grow quite bold. There lives a silent I in love. A quiet spot that floats above.
It peaks at sunrise morning's dew.
Snowy white.
It fades as longing dies a new. A part must die for I to thrive. A part so hidden that I deny. She lives in me. In quiet rooms where silent knowing comes renewed. Blame cold and wind and rain for storms. This blustering blast of dense hormones. Chemical shifts in celluloid blocks remove my unintelligible thoughts. Learn from the flow. All I's are one. And storms that come but cleanse the sun. Speak not of pain for I see none in glorious awe of I and One.
Tonight. I found him. Not because of a set standard but more connected to a yearning. Like when you wake up parched and all you can do is lunge for the faucet and dip your tongue in the chlorinated liquid life seeping out. I guess that's what struck me most about him. Of course, I know I'm cursed. Who wouldn't be? Five-six. Great ass. Good hair. Athletic tits. Wink wink. Sometimes I even make myself cringe. Anyway, if I don't enjoy this then why the hell am I hear. Shit. He heard my heel click.