Naked Soliloquy

The throated burn of hitching scars, fire Like viper twists, venom and vampire Kisses stripping the glorious breast, Infusing a terrible harsh unrest. Exsanguinating the blood of life, burning Somewhere between love and yearning, Keel-hauled on a barnacle heart alone Where ice fused with steel and quarry stone. And remained mocking, unforgiving, immune, Unmoved by a pitiful stab at the moon; A beggar’s lament crying toxic disgrace, Flushing the dreams from the human race, Left unprotected and inconsequential, Sadder and weathered by experiential Abandonment and sadism, paler than pale At the strangling hands of a crushing betrayal. “Got to go on,” they say. “Got to go on.” But go on to what now love has all gone? Set free of the garments of civilisation, Divested in natural integration, Dragging porcupine quills away and free, Naked in their soliloquy.