In The Veneer Of The Cicatrix
The taste of iron,
The taste of verdigris,
The taste of putrefaction
Holding your hips
Igniting eloquent friction
In your staid tongue
Impaling a tedious sway
In the amphitheater of despondence;
A waltz for submission
Into your tyrant liege
For you are the conduit
Of the woebegone malevolence
A voodoo doll
Wedged and punctured by
A hypophrenic anguish
Pressed by the supercilious rapier
Trudging in the soft wound
Of the ethereal sierras
Of clotting blood
And decaying flesh
Debauched and pilfered
Of substance,
Of truth,
Slewing in the lewd
Riddles of the synthetic
Fey of the baleful erudition
Of this labyrinth
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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