Wanton words…

There were never butterflies_1


Words are promiscuous.

Spilling out of me like a body in heat;

Desperate for gratification…


I slay you with this lustful beast.

Alive and pulsing;

So hungry they make desire look weak.


Such fury; urgency.

Filling the vacuum with lashes;

This tongue forming words – annihilate, and you turn to ashes.


Take me, say these wanton words.

To spaces where everything is nothing;

Waterfalls come. Then waterfalls go.




Be enslaved as this fire licks you where you feel it most,

Yes I am a beast;

And my words will swallow you whole.


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