Burnt Pages

Erotic Poetry, Weird Poetry

She kneels before me,

Silent as smoldering coal,

Burning pages off of my body,

And tearing away line after line of me,

Like I am nothing–

And have only been nothing–

But recycled paper.

My edges curl and ash

As barbed fire tongues lick at and devour my insides

On the outside of me.

The flames melting away

Layer after layer of carnival masquerade

And clown paint

And harlequin drollery

And the vast towers jutting from my skin cells

Built by the great architects of falsity

And fear.

All of it slides down my slippery shadow silhouette

And pools at our knees

Which are almost touching.

That dark blankness where once I lived

Is all that is left of me

After her burning

And her pulling apart of my epidermal fortress,

And the sloughing off,

The crumbling,

The spiriting away

Of decades

And entire lifetimes.



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