Devour Paper Moons

One of my darker poems yet still the word dance fascinates me.

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Shadow monsters.



Unforgiving in pursuit.

Devouring innocence as flames
devour paper moons leaving
only charred remains.

A new death.

Vaporous thoughts come
devoid of completeness and
gone before damage is done.

Vivid sensations.
Satin pulses peaking.
Wicked control of
the goods.
Bought and sold.
Powerbrokers in barns
and boardrooms
tipping hats to
the maiden whore.

The line forms here, men.
The line forms here.


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