Tags
chaos, erotic poetry, gape your grin, hip your lips, more than spilled ink, riot smoldering, sonnet, tower
Chaos. I can feel the howl of your blood
calling me home. You’re slung low in my guts
the way gods cradle a newly minted
mortal. Kiss me and know just how riots
smolder, vexed by their own fire. Chaos feels
nothing like that, being form and formless,
like blood, like cum. Spread your lips wide, ordeals
of the soul require a gaped grin. Transgress
with blood-honey dripping legs. Carnivore
your needs. Betray your paths. You know I will
follow you anywhere. Your rosebud, gaped
O wrapped around a stone tower. Sink core
deep. That’s my Chaos to you; deformed thrill,
gnarled and scintillating, passion misshaped.