Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Paranoia


Would you reconsider flesh

of mine

to grace that warm exquisite folding
(cursed upon the monthly moon
that lines the inner you with blood)
in synchrony atop the shaking
making love

Are we not a house of mansions?

I’d swallow your presence
assimilate anew
another woman
just for me
to see you through
should inner shards of reconsideration
dare to claim denial

I’ll be your path to trial:
in isolation
primed
for cold obliteration

You would not dare

for after all
I know you care
about your arrogance –
the weight of breast

BULGING –

prideful glands
that seek out the male promontories
up to raise their temperature

You are the ruins
in naked fall

you must
recall

Pull in your legs
and be prepared;

I shan’t deny

You have to die

And how I’ll cry
For THEM!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2013

Submitted: Sunday, October 06, 2013
Edited: Monday, October 07, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

A study of the inner mind obsessed

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