The spell must not be broken

The spell will not be broken

erotically laden words

cross the borders of our lips

departing one land for the other

strange, mysterious, unique

a virgin territory, untouched

our tongues eagerly anticipating

the first taste of our passion

waiting to feed on love’s feast

an adventure in verbal sensuality

a fantasy that grabs your core

leaving you exhausted and fulfilled

don’t stop this sexual wordplay

The spell must not be broken

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Plastic feast

The saddened and dying creatures

surviving with badly misformed features

were never warned of our human detritus

left to suffocate – did they ever mistreat us?

A stomach of unnecessary wrapping was the only feast

that we could offer to this innocent beast.

No distress on execution day

The lack of distress on the day

was weighing on my mind

the firing squad stood before me

ready, alert and fully loaded

only waiting for the command

to fire into my helpless body.

 

I wanted no blindfold, only to see

with full eyes my anonymous fate

I watched the executioners before me

standing with their own slayers

waiting in line for their own

pending pull of the trigger.

An endless flow of blood,

this life and death saga that

incessantly unfolds.