She Bled Red Wine

Mocking Bird Down


I wrapped her,
in red ribbon. I breathed
against her skin, and heard her
thoughts crashing against the inside of
my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far.
She ached. Though I didn’t know why.
Nor could I ask. Not yet.
Her eyes changed colour with each
mechanical snap of
the lens. A flash of the lights,
skin pulled tight,
and emotions pulled tighter.
A pale faced weak shadow stood not far,
unblinking in her information gathering.
‘I’m a copywriter.’ The shadow stated.
‘That’s nice.’ I lied. ‘Hold this, please.’
Girl wrapped in ribbon, warm hands and
busy mind,
lay on the bed to be written on.
My poetry on her nakedness seemed so
perfect. I had no idea why.
But it did.
It did.
Made of fire, wrapped in silk red ribbon.
A page for my words, laid out on my linen.
She wanted to tell me…

View original post 419 more words

Wanna Say Something?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s