Pretty little Porphyria,
you mystify,
and your allure
like mist under the crack of the door
seeps quickly into my soul.
Long locks,
entangled amongst themselves
from the bitter pouring rain,
captivate.
You patter your fist against my door.
Pleading entrance. Ironic.
Sheer clothes,
clinging tight against yourself
from the bitter pouring rain,
arouse.
You pad your feet across my floor.
Approaching me. Idyllic.
You'll break into my heart,
seduce it? You can.
You have.
For getting inside me,
I will get inside you.
Forced. To the floor.
You'll last about as long
as it took you to worm
your insidious way into my heart.
I promise.
Oh, those long locks.
Author notes
Still pretty rough, but at least better. I'm liking the structure and the little hooks I used, but not the piece as a whole.
Also, please, SOMEONE tell me you understand this. You're poets. You should be able to understand allusion.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
There's been trouble understanding this? Why? It seems fairly obvious to me...
Anyway.
Not sure how this slipped under my radar, but it did. I didn't even know this piece was here. So sad...
Because it's fantastic. Like all of your work.
Sorry for being absent as of late. Life's crazy. BUT. I'm back, hopefully. I've missed our odd chats of couquering the world and complimentary critique exchanges.
Best wishes,
LLT -
Bitter?
Nice write
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