Photo: mine.
Predictable ticking
Ratcheting, ramping
Tighter and hotter
Some kind of
Wood fire grill
Stoked to sear
Preparation takes time
Flames lick
Higher and higher
Why must my body
Operate on
A schedule
Clockwork desire
Copulate to procreate
Hisses an insistent voice
About the Creator
Aspen Marie
In love with life and all of its foibles.
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Comments (5)
Such fantastic tension in this poem. I loved the verbs you chose. They make this so vivid!
Well-wrought! All my base instincts and desires seem to me sometimes like petulant children pestering for attention, so I try to find constructive things for them to do, as I know if I give them free reign to play, we'll all end up on the other side of some costly misadventure. It was not a boring life, by any means, but I barely survived it! I might be a Cuckoo Clock...
Very good questions, vibing sleeping waking - same over again. Dance it away, feeling - questioning.
Rawr... this was hot!
Oooo, that was sensual. The photo and your poem complement each other very well!