A thousand folds.
A thousand cuts.
Crumpled up ball of wonder —
Forced between my lips.
Seizing,
— On the razor-edged,
Dagger-cornered,
Baled plane —
As it is shoved down my throat.
Reflex gagging on trash’s refuse,
Spitballing slurried regurgitations with the bins,
Dumpster's lids slamming along,
Heavy iron clenching my fingers against my teeth.
Vocal cords battling against their own discord,
Distasteful tongue lashing disquiet mind,
Choking down the coagulating kami —
Before it learns how to ink.
-
Author:
CanaryInTheGrave (
Offline) - Published: September 11th, 2026 22:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments1
This poem in metaphor can be taken quite sexually being sensual and erotic in its images. Nicely pictured it flows on to its end. Well done
Love your take.
Thank you!
You are most welcome Canaryln
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