deepundergroundpoetry.com

Old Friends

I had forgotten the allure of tainted want.
Unnecessary perversion.
The thrill of the unnatural.
How my appetites had grown tame in the face of Love.

I am reminded of a french film,
Contes Immoraux
or of alters left untwisted by Latin phrases
in beautiful old churches.
How wanton are razors and chains and such.

How fine the line between leather and lace.
Twist and shout blasphemies and falsehoods.
Call broken into black pits for good bits of temporary completion.
Written by HedonsHerald (Alexander Johnson)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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