Lamia Childe

Between unseen quicksilver seams she gleams
Like lodes of secret sin erodes the covers of my skin
Let her in, (she was always there) out again
Watch her tear with dirty satin nails silken fabrics brocade
"Oh never fade my lovely lamia, is he not your own child ?)
She preys Mary Mantis like I pray for my bitten head
Away to write,another site with ashen ink and raw stone peg
Yes he will beg for her vicious kiss so violet moth like feather
Dreams consume Mother Loving trees in spell bound rain
He sees her come with canted hips, his poet blood smeared
Upon her lips so metaphorically wet, Sunset, she gleams~




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 63 times
Written on 2017-01-02 at 23:14

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