bruised peach

(I want furtive words.)

rose-tipped and rose-clipped,
prey and pray
into disarray
threatening to make
a hunger of my wolf
instead a wolf of my hunger
bit by the hand
that feeds it

2 thoughts on “bruised peach”

  1. I also hold a beast within me, she can be callus, sometimes cruel.
    She covets the taste and scent of crimson, it bleeds into my dreams.

    Control is gratifying, though power is not paramount.
    Merely observing reactions to stimulus is scarcely satisfying.

    I am the beast inside me, I delight in scarlet reverie, I have no more excuses.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.