hanged

struck down by willingness,
he seeks repugnance of character, a butchering
to purge passions, a dream
to negate perception,

living behind/beyond the secure abode of knowledge,
inside the pool of not thoughtless but less thought of
notions.

invalid – but to be sure of submission –
the world takes a deep sigh
with every second bellied
by the man,
hanged.

Linking it up with Word Count at With Real Toads
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let’s do it

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love’s bulge seems to be pretty abundant-
lewd words weave a fulcrum of all dreams, wet to touch,
sweet-bitter tones serenade the ears, a silent breath
grazing the neck with a scimitar of nefarious thoughts,

don’t speak, just do the unspeakable, the unmentionable
with a velocity of a soaring plane, upending us into submission,
this is the art work people gawk at and fail to encompass
into any coherent knowledge, its deprivation, its salvation,

spilled paint is the canvas for this action filled space, love is
swallowing its saliva and thick puddles of misery foam at those
silent, nurturing lips. your mouth is my mouth is your mouth.

let’s do it. let’s unmake love.

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Image source
Linking it up with Poets United Midweek Motif

Also read this: this vulgar handiwork of time and let’s draw blood
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