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Image for the poem blue flowers (so she

blue flowers (so she'll know)


never give a dame flowers.
they wilt & wither as quick as the sordid vows of love
written on the wind; embers like butterfly wings
rising from the afterglow.

don’t check your inbox for paper hearts or candy kisses,
I’m too cruel for that. instead I will make you blue
poems, composed in the deepest indigo ink: so
perverse that they can only be called romance.

a poem in which I take your naked, trembling body
across my knees, to rub & kiss your sexy ass, before I
beat it with the hammer of my palms; thunderclaps that
will shake the sky & drown out your anguished wails. as
you weep, I will know that your tears are not pretended.

the bruises will bloom like roses, & ecstasy’s cream will
flow down your thighs, because that is poetry.

call me vagabond or artist, vandal or lover; interloper in the
wilderness of your dreams, a garden without flowers.

return to your cellar now, & make love to your serenity.
when you are three fingers deep in your blue fantasy,
say my name…


(Art: Daisuke Yakota)


Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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