Carte Blanche

Listen to the crimson rattle!
Death calls…
Feel the labyrinth shake!
Earth moves…
Is it love pounding
at the hearts door?
Or could it be
the bubbling of skin
so thick
that no one dare
come close enough
nor get under it?
Embrace the roll that comes
when notes and vibrations soar
to hidden places sunken deep within
and we acknowledge
there is nothing more.
Withered soul allows
the moment to penetrate,
reverberate
what life was meant to be…
Not an illusion
or lack luster cover
flip pages of magazine images.
Feather dust creases of ageless eyes gleam.
Hiss, “…back at you baby…” carries no weight,
no substance only darkest void.
A seductive glance
back and forth high,
when the silver spoon
falls methodically
from perched thin lined lips.
And they never question why.
Commonality flies
in the face
of redundancy
when our uniqueness
separates us…by 6 degrees?
Carte blanche
to a permanent place
in a universe without boundaries.

© 2016 TrilbyYates

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