Dark Poetry Prose Poetry October 16, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

10:46pm sunday 10-16-05

solitude germinates couched in liquid and darkness. its roots penetrate deep. filtering the soil in their fete of pain. all aches subside as emptiness is meted out in precision doses.

lips do not feel, though moist in the press against. fingers do not touch, though sunken deep into the bowels of caress.

this stranger under my tongue produces no saliva. no hungry hiccups between my legs. the stranger in my head is all that i can see. all that i can feel. as the silence rivets into unbuttoned flesh.

the leaves toil against the churning winds. the world being moved one choke at a time. until nothing breathes except the silence.