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Collared, not Kept





Collared, not Kept

I have stained your altar mute.
Threads of crimson scrawled
through carrara. I don’t desire
worship but your bladed collar incises
my skin, points razors deep
in the furrows of my skull.

I cannot stand your kiss
I cannot walk under the brace
of your shattered regard.
My vertebrae cascade agony- the press
Of your razor-skin on mine.

I may kneel beneath your love
But don’t mistake blood
for submission

I will never serve

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
caffienekitty
Jul. 6th, 2012 07:27 pm (UTC)
Wow! I like the narrative elements in this; there's a story there, but it could be fiction, legend or metaphor and encompasses all three. Also new word! Carrara, which I'd never heard before but seems to refer to blue-grey marble, which is cool and a heck of a visual kick.

Well done!
ciaranbochna
Jul. 6th, 2012 08:43 pm (UTC)
Well, thanks. *shuffles* The explanation behind it is really mundane (migraines), but this is what was rattling about in my brain after two days of that:P

I love carrara, just has a sultry ring to it - better than marble;)
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )