I am become Wolf

Image care of Photobucket; I hold no rights to it.

I fell in Burgundy,

the color of her Convictions

tasted of Hopes and vaunted little riding hood–

allures that Gripped,

teased me past the bounds of Reason,

tempted to the sweetest Treason,

Body’s Elation

is my Soul’s Damnation,

gripped as we are in Sensory Salvation–

in D Minor–

rings Red the stacatto of our Destruction,

as Beings, set among the fog and sand–

we are Drifting.

I am become the Wolf, less man,

together craft the scarlet trails of Unmaking–

you Sing for me,

but these Hands are not my hands,

they Touch you, and I do not Know my name.

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9 thoughts on “I am become Wolf

  1. Very sexy. I like this a lot.

    This line says everything:

    “I fell in Burgundy,

    the color of her Convictions

    tasted of Hopes and vaunted little riding hood–”

    ~ C

  2. And also… I like the way some words are capitalized… I do that in my handwritten work inadvertently… to stress important words… Is that what you were doing here?

  3. Greatly dark and twisted… I love the last lines:

    ‘you Sing for me,

    but these Hands are not my hands,

    they Touch you, and I do not Know my name.’

    so mysterious…

  4. Chris,
    i may seem MIA of late, but wanted you to know that I read this poem as soon as it posted…sorry I am just now commenting…I absolutely love this one…I dig the sexy edge and the style emerging…um, to put it simple…this is hot (pushed poetic aside for a moment)

    Annie

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