Silver Tongue, White Devil

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Love(lust) Poem for the Artificially Manufactured or: Duraflame is Sexy

This flame formed fiercely quick,
Unnaturally so
Suddenly, without kindling
Left me breathless
Feeding on the oxygen formerly occupying my lungs 

The heat hovers upwards
Distorting the air above us
Birds benefit, aim for our updraft 

Soot stains the sheets we share
The sickly, sweet smell of sweat, cum and creosote
Courses through the air
Disseminating through deficient ductwork of a cheap motel

How long will this last?
Relative to the guests on the other side of the thin walls:
Longer than their injected relief,
shorter than the life of their habit
They have no choice but to listen to rhythmic rapping of the headboard
As they succumb and slip away

Posted on Friday, June 17 2011. Tagged with: poetrypoemlovelustrelationshipscheap motelsfuck the oxford commaduraflamedrugs
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My poetry reflects me. Draw your own conclusions.

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