Thursday, October 13, 2016


Undress me
Allow the fog of fall
To suckle away these nipples
That loathe the lonely night.

My fading throat is thirsty still
For a bite of meaning.

Tired of the touch
From hands that know me too well.

Predilection. Investigation. Reveal.

Plucking more strength from the fucking... 
The fucking off,
of love's labor's lost.