the Game

Lets play the game.

I pulled you in sucked all your life,
your worth,
threw you back to the hungry pack.
Blew consciousness into your bewildered mind.

Lets play the game again.

Come, you give me fantasy perfection
I’ll lap at your love, toy with
the emotions of your pinkie finger.
It’s not you I want, don’t you know that?

The hidden treasure of the game
the brutally crashing ending is not
You:
embryonic and thirsting
Not them:
desiring my imperfections,
Hardly.
It’s me:
with the darkness in my mouth
the frantic hunt in my eyes
the dead retributions in my limbs.

Now shall we play?
For you are blind
and I am willing
to steal the heart that’s willingly given me
to sew it to my sleeve, drag it to the depths of the dive.

Lets throw our bodies to the masses
let them devour the innocence
the fleshy parts of our mortality.
We shall emerge, gasping,
crying to Eve
for a snack.
Biting into the crisp skin I will look up
and realize
you are not the one I dreamed.

We have both been fooled. Lets
castrate the snake and blame
Adam, but,
in unreality,
It was all a game.

So, shall we play

again.

The particular arrangement
of English symbols you have just read were imagined by
that human
the picture was ripped
from cyberspace
(a.k.a. Google Images)