blood – Page 2 – Words and Feathers

dental hygiene (20160903)

September 3, 2016 crow17 Comments

the backs of my teeth
are rough
rough enough to make
my tongue tip bleed
from brushing against
them

it’s too bad because
i had so much to say
and now blood
dribbles down my chin
when i try to speak

you ask
what did you do to get
the backs of your teeth
so screwed up

i tell you through
lips coated in pink
froth
it was the words
that hammered against them
while i clenched my jaw
held my peace
the acid of every word
i forced myself to swallow
staining them
eating away at them
making them sharp
and hollow
like dead coral

stone, blood, glass (20160809)

August 9, 2016August 9, 2016 crow6 Comments

i want to turn
my hands to stone

let them harden
the way my heart
slowly becomes
a smooth orb
of cold marble

there is a world of mirrors
that needs smashing
and my hands
won’t cease
won’t heal
won’t quit bleeding

night song (poem 20160521)

May 21, 2016May 21, 2016 crow7 Comments

latticework honeycombs
where bees make blood
instead of honey

all the same to vampires

(i’ve wanted to sink my teeth
into the soft skin of your neck
on more than one occasion)

marrow sitting deep
inside singing and humming
i can hear it while you sleep

calling my name
i curl around you
offering warmth in exchange

——

The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Sing

Poem 20151110

November 10, 2015November 11, 2015 crow

this is the real thing, this life
an absence of the not thing
a scarcity of the not life

your skin burns away
in the heat

your skin dries up
in the cold

we are mummies and ashes and ice

let it all crack and crackle
let it split us open
hollow us out before
we step into the dry heat

–at least it’s a dry heat,
they say, as if that makes it
a better heat–

we will be put back together
maybe kinstuki
glittering and showing our flaws
but whole

Poem 20150618

June 18, 2015 crow

the beautiful immediacy of your hands
compels me to remember how cold they were
that first time i took one in my own
and we initiated a transfer of body heat
from my palm to yours
as if my blood sang a song
and your heart sang
the chorus at first
and then the harmony
until we were the same temperature

Poem 20150213

February 13, 2015February 13, 2015 crow

break all the hearts
snap them until your hands
are caked with candy dust
and the food safe inks
coat your fingers like
blood
dig out the cherry centers
of all the chocolates
evacuate the liqueur
and save it to burn in lamps
made of human flesh
and human bone
call upon st. valentine
to strike with his crozier
to break open every heaving chest
expose every swiftly beating heart
like a surgeon intent
on eradicating some diseased
greasy, necrotized mass of tissue
so the lungs can finally fill with air

Poem 20141228

December 28, 2014 crow

struck in the thigh
the warrior drops to his knees
tasting blood
in his mouth
mixed with bitterness
mixed with fear
mixed with defeat
mixed with regret
he remembers a sunny vineyard
where the dust rose
as he ran the among the rows of
bulging grapes
remembers a girl
with skin as brown as a chestnut
lips as sweet rose petals
and hair the color of