Transfiguration

Petrified, my heart
Refuses your vain entreaties
Deny the charm of your
Silver-plated words
Which do insinuate
Like cold serpents.
Give me your kiss of sin
So I may spit the poison
Into the well of your being
Which I devour —
A rapacious beast.

Keeper

Dark hearts dipped in dark ink
Left smoldering, ashy-bitter
In attic corners
Teeth-chatteringly patient
For the pleasured thrust
Of your fanged consumption
Pale before the musky thrill
Of preparing
(For you)
A sumptuous (murderous)
Meal.

Literary Appetite

My favorite thirst is the thirst for words
A turn of phrase as succulent as a peach
An image, silk threads glistening in a tapestry
A story on feathered wings and flight for the mind
To be hungry and to be fed;
There is no greater joy