Metal Scrapes Porcelain

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My mouth is pregnant with sound,

but my lips

form only silent shapes;

and you taunt me over a plate of

post-fuck

scrambled eggs.

You used to love my scrambled eggs,

but now you’re not even eating;

you push the food around with a fork

while I

swirl a glass of pink zinfandel,

and contemplate killing you.

Metal scrapes porcelain…

the moon is no longer ours;

she’s retreated

deep within a grey white veil—

an ever passing shroud.

Metal scrapes porcelain…

never again will we make love

‘neath the pallid watch.

Never again

will you hear the shrill of my heart.

Metal scrapes porcelain…

and my mouth is pregnant with sound,

dead under the noise of a fuckin’ fork

pushing eggs to the center of a dinner plate.

I take the fork from your flimsy fingers

and wonder

what your blue eyes would taste…

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Quotable Poe Week Four-Kindra M. Austin

Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen

ETERNALLY OCTOBER

In his dreams, she dances

in and out of shadow and luminescence.

Her liquescent movements are reminiscent

of a languid flame that once danced for the rose candle,

which now sits cold, useless—

dead

since late October.

He breathes deeply scents of

sandalwood and rose, the essence of her hair.

He tastes the redolence of gin and tonic,

and the tang of menthol ciggies cleaving to her tongue—

senses living, ever

lasting

in October.

He hears her breath, rhythmic

against a backdrop of fall rain. Soft sputters

splatter gently upon the cold windowpane—

the melody of October unjust, justified.

Song of amour, ever

low,

ever fleeting…

He awakes in the night.

She is there in the black, low-slung and callous—

phantom in the guise of a satellite,

casting her hateful white light through the thin window shade,

ever mocking, ever

static

in October.

---

© 2019 Kindra M. Austin

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Signs of (Half) Life

Skeleton Parade-Mela Blust

Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen

I am your night deep darkness your rem sleep harpy the dreams you take pills to avoid I am your restless breath catching in your throat ankle-break ouch break-neck speed and honey-drip sweetness I bat my lashes before I bite I am service with a smile I come at dusk, in fog, on waves of terror you tried to tone me down you tried to toss me aside you kicked me out of bed you tried to vote me out you tried to keep me quiet I am the bones piled high the secrets you buried the skeleton parade in your closet

now shut your weak mouth

now close your delicate eyes

now take your fucking pills

i’m coming.

---

© 2019 Mela Blust

Mela Blust is a moonchild, and has always had an affinity for the darkness. She has been writing poetry since she was a child.

Her work has…

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Quotable Poe Week One – M. Brazfield

M. Brazfield kills the Quotable Poe Challenge.

Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen

sweet anguish

because you were my echo
for all eternity you’ve held me
mid air gagged and bound
i clung and you squeezed
an inky black forbidden sickness
blessed only by masters apostates all
i cut my skin for you
i lied and forked my tongue for you
i crawled in shame only for you
but you still held me held me there
like a cave around the diamond
you and i knew each other for a thousand years
my beloved my tempting mistress
i your little nothing lower than waste
your eyes green emeralds
and cheeks of porcelain gold
you smiled into my darkened mirror
and willingly i shred my soul
if only for a taste of you
a taste of a devilish divine kiss
let me crawl raw belly on crystal you nails
caress my blood as a farewell
like sand in the Sahara
let me slip through…

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