Captives Of Love Island by Peter Marra

Captives Of Love Island

her tears wash herself.

inside it’s very strange.

baptized by the sickly summer heat

with 1 cry her resolve was on the floor.

skin sweaty & pleasure truncated.

punishment scenarios followed her again because

her purpose was to enlighten mankind. her goal is

to pull the symbol of power and

to sing about the sting of humiliation.

this experience in the black mansion

was published between each moan

sideswipe close

ricture phantasm

go on / go on –

we both evolved

she seduced / she danced

twirling in a glass box as the

bright lights blared up through the floor

lighting her up

warming her bare legs.

she became fully recharged before she became resigned

a girl's firm hand held the digital recordings

secreted them away

crawled by inching

crawled by inching

crawled by inching

mouthing the words: ”love me and

burn the glossy photos”

i had memorized her license

i asked the obvious about why she began lighting the candles,

why it began to rain.

bounce off it,

bounce off it,

overcome the rigid upbringing

the tender touches won’t stop:

gloves on fire

endlessly caressing her face

cold lips on her eyelids

tingling her stomach,

reaching inside

a lacy frilled explosion

denouement fractured

“please fix me” she said. then she laughed.

"They're always afraid to admit they want fun,”

she laughed once more.

she was now a film,

she was now a waxwork.

she was now an experiment in terror

a thorough exam revealed nothing but

euphoria, her mind was photographed

as a great lacerated puzzle

that was hidden in a gallery.

later we sat on the couch and stared at each other

for unending time.

(that’s how long usually takes)

chanting monotone

a most intimate act became impossible:

to be completed as the clothes crawled away screaming into

a bloodless wilderness amidst the

scratchy squeaky sounds a reason to sleep

(a dormant pin-up was splashed across the headlines)

she'll be there

she’ll be made to appear fashionable.

... and in 15 minutes – a green 1965 Pontiac Bonneville

will arrive to take us away.