POETRY
Posted: Tue Oct 01, 2013 4:22 am
She Was Born, by Charles Carreon
She was born from one drop of blood
So red so pure so hot
it couldn't be contained
in any vessel
and burned away everything
before she took form.
Her tongue so ripe
licks away the surface of change
to reveal the immutable skeleton of flame,
Her fangs so sharp
penetrate the arteries of pain,
Her lips so full
fasten on to the neck of grief
and drain all the dark blue blood
from the frame of the walking dead.
Desire unquenchable
causes her to writhe, yearning
to reach the heart of the matter,
To twist out the dark root
with claws so kind,
'till the rich red color of her
floods forth, drenching
the subject of her tender mercies
with release,
Leaving one more
Bubbling scarlet,
At last breathing free --
Then on to the next.
She was born for this work.
She was born from one drop of blood
So red so pure so hot
it couldn't be contained
in any vessel
and burned away everything
before she took form.
Her tongue so ripe
licks away the surface of change
to reveal the immutable skeleton of flame,
Her fangs so sharp
penetrate the arteries of pain,
Her lips so full
fasten on to the neck of grief
and drain all the dark blue blood
from the frame of the walking dead.
Desire unquenchable
causes her to writhe, yearning
to reach the heart of the matter,
To twist out the dark root
with claws so kind,
'till the rich red color of her
floods forth, drenching
the subject of her tender mercies
with release,
Leaving one more
Bubbling scarlet,
At last breathing free --
Then on to the next.
She was born for this work.