Friday, July 24, 2009

Where dogs go to die

You drew me out
As a blade would pressed to flesh.
Cloaked in the tantalizing nature of death
Like a night light to insects
You induce a deadly attraction,
A pleasure from pain,
Of which only you are to gain.

Stirring an urge
Deep in the wombs of women,
You thread a sorrowful scent of helplessness
By the careless flicker of your tail
Which you knew would be difficult not to trail

A dying dog
In search for its final resting place
I follow, at first, at a distance
Till you find a peace with me;

We share an intense intimacy
As you let me watch you
Undress your wounds
And dress them in pieces of me
Remained stained in your blood
Bound to your side
A bandage you bled through
Now used, healed and discarded,
Left only with a slashed scar, a reminder of you.


Bernhard Martin Matovu Fischer said...

WOW!!! Very good!!! I love it. And it addresses the issue well. Its quite common for the one being healed to discard the healer, for they were someone they chose at a vulnerable time or simply remind them of the wounds and pain. keep em coming.

Sarah said...

I am commenting on all your blogs but whatever. Hopefully it is one Liz, just different sides haha! And that is so true - when there are wayyyy too many thoughts, i can't write. I have to single the thoughts out and write the actual thoughts down, and then maybe eventually i can write something good. Thoughts... they serve for the good and bad :P

Oh and the above poem - love it. Like all your works. "Love it" maybe loses it's charm after saying it a thousand times but i really mean it :)


Mckeith said...

impressive.... The wounds take time to heal...

I K Nakueira said...

naturally gifted!period.