“I’m unafraid.
Night awakens.
Songs start to liven up.
Unzip eyes.
A radio sings on.
Hazy lazy a body writhes
In folds of touchable sheets
but also writhes along
owner of the bodice
A slave of one worldly apparel.
It squeals, screams in the prologue
While telling her tale.
She is an It ,when in the world.
Nonetheless It hides a Her
Her with all her love to give
Her gashes to lick.
To draw lovers closer
and closer into her womb.
To let on sighs , bliss.
To gift all She can..
She lives only for the night
And dies when the song dies,
the night dies.
And walks away the It
in the sad daylight… “
A contest entry
- best prewrites by serenity silvermoon.
600 points, ended April 6, 2008, 10 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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