"sonnet33"

taboo trysts, she writes on the wall
in small print aware of his call
dark circles swirl around her neck
his voice commands her mind in check
dirty breath blows through red, stained soul
spirit heats then inverts the bowl
animals howl, walls drip with sweat
smothered light when eyes turn to jet
shackles appear as do the knives
`tis in the leather that each thrives
walls scream, ghosted cries from last eve
decadent thread with needled sleeve
sew closed the world so she will bleed
`tis whilst encased that all is freed ~

`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
27jan09
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