Old Poetry To End A Decade On: Dumped

Funny how times change and it feels so good to never be the same. ~Faith


My dead relationship came back to life last night for the third or so time. It clawed through dirt, hoisted itself out, looked about then asked for directions to the nearest reservoir.

My dead relationship was thirsty see?

Limbs rotted, pale and dusky hued, lofty lights of all I Ever Wanted sheered bright thru
Unearthing doubts and dripping clods of fearful clout my dead relationship rose from the grave ready and able

It tried to approach about the nearest train timetable
It had me to see, discourse to commence
Intercourse to submit to, even though this time it "really, really wanted to"

We fell to our knees last night, begged to please and hoped to love me.
As I paused to admire the cold and beautifully bony fa├žade I reconsidered death; indeed the last, Last breath.

It asks in the name of all it was: LOVE THE UNDEAD and come to bed, and come to bed.

But all I can think of? Cold and future nights out at sea, this poor dead body and me.

Popular posts from this blog

Bi History Moments: Anything That Moves, Spring 1994 (bisexual manifesto and cover)

Twitter Banned Bisexual, But We've Won This Before (receipts within)

No Apologies for Queer White Tears - 2016 BlaQOUT Keynote