vesper north
E I G H T
I am a deadly creature
Like the ebon viper
I weaken even the Stoic
with the venom from my stare
I am a work of art
Miss de Milo gossips
catty whispers to Ms. Lisa —
wishing she were I
I am sex
So soft yet violent —
join me for a dance?
I’ll bring smiles to your body
I am femme
A parade of orchid and
lemon — your bitter joy
and your sweetest death
I could never be yours.
No fever prison could
hold me, no amount of
adoration could enslave me
DON’T TELL ANYONE I’M A MONSTER
The salt shaker clanked
and clattered onto
the wooden floor
There his rickety
tray stood
with food half-touched
In his bed lay
a bitter skeleton
Who are you?
“You won’t even look at me”
he grumbles
Why would I?
You’re a stranger.
But still, that’s good salt
I grabbed the salt shaker
off the floor —
toss it over your shoulder.
Wait
Does superstition apply to a dead man?
I couldn’t remember why
I came here
I don’t know you anymore
When will you go?
In your sleep?
She awakens next
to a sombre corpse?
No, that’s not
how he went.
He slipped silently
into the evening.
“You won’t even look at me”
Those are the last words
I remember he said to me
S E V E N
Oh, the aroma of sweet sweat
Mixed with your faded perfume
As we romp in silk sheets
For hours on end
Turning me upside down
Wrapped in a blanket of flesh —
A toast to sex!
Your body is a playground
We swing
Slide
And climb —
Running blood wild —
How appetizing you are
A toast to sex!
A dance, an art —
Chocolate,
Strawberries
Caramel
A tasty pastime
A toast to sex!
Oh, lover
Kiss me down
Tear me up
Break my heart
Explore me
Do what you will with me
Claim me
Kiss me
Excite my skin
Make me cry out in ecstasy
A toast to sex!
Pardon me while I catch my breath.
WE WERE JUST FINDING OUT WHO WE WERE
What is it?
Is it the wind brushing by or the sunlight peeking past your lashes? Is it an escape from the end of summer, a sunset away from good-bye — goodness gone?
Is it falling in love?
The chills that creep up your skin? A soft stroke against your cheek?
The sensation she feels when staring back at you?
Could it be letting go?
Becoming uninhibited, abandoning convention? Or a bitter farewell after an arduous conversation?
What if it’s the silent settling of heartbreak in your chest? Memories hounding for your tears, sniffing out your misery for miserous fun.
Is it selfish? Is it self-sabotage?
I can’t remember what it is…
Is it forgetting?
Yes. Yes, I think it is.
F I V E
You are so perfect
You’re kinda swell
Just the one for me.
I know too well
That the thing I love
Is nothing more
Than a fantasy.
I have this idea —
Call it a beautiful dream —
Pent up in my mind.
You’re a monster
That I can’t seem to redeem.
The architect of my
Broken heart.
You’re an artist,
My little starfucker,
Snorting divadust.
You know just
How to love me.
I hate the thought
of you touching me.
You’re so brilliant
A fantastic fool
Really third shelf.
The Adonis to my Venus
By trick of an arrow
Tailored to your Burton
After a couple bourbons.
I’ve painted your face
On an idea
So now
I guess
We’re stuck together.
Cheers.