Vixen

  a spattering of lies.
cigarette burns and blue bruises
claim the prize.

Vixen was full of light, flickering
her sunset like a strobe.
Erected watchtowers, lighthouses,
vaticans and prison cells.

On her lips lay words warped
in a corpse-stated bliss,
repeating the mantra:
Love!  Love!  Love!

Underlines, boldface, and stars.
Paperclips, bookmarks, dog-eared pages.
Somewhere
searching or waiting,
none can say -

A mound of flesh was made
for her consumption alone -
a half of a half,
a copy of a copy,
an embrace to call home.

Know the devil by name and
god by his scent.
The Scent of
sweat, semen, and excrement.

Past of:
 "Once upon a time" ,
a future for "Ever After".
Lips tight and ready,
tongue eager to please,
guarded secrets
prepared for revelation.

Nickel hearts.
Bastard children.
Ghosts in dreams
constructing practical mirages.

end here.  now.
insert reusable promises.