Wednesday, June 19, 2013

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.

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