Across a Canvas

Across a Canvas

I creep,
Then wait
Upon the bed, as bait,
And keep hands about the knee
Like a person in a painting
Positioned,
A statue,
Too patient
And so, damned
Impatient.

He creeps,
Underneath
Grabs and tugs and slaps
Until muffled things emerge
From the black rubber
Between our lips.
It continues and we scream now
Like we are having
A very,
Ugly, tantrum.

We creep,
And howl, like big dogs unleashed
Into fields of meat.
So when the final crashing call
Dies
There seems to be a pair of eyes,
Behind my eyes,
That play, like a film still as it twitches,
The sex,
Across a canvas.

-Muse Giacalone

 

not usually the sort I curate, but oh my…

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