in the garden by the moon-gray shed?
What's under the bloom
and the petal walls in my head?
Dangerous, it's dangerous
hooker red and high like this.
What's under the beat
in the heart of a summer night?
What's under your skin
where ravens go blackly bright?
Dangerous, it's dangerous
hooker red and high like this.
What's under your smile
curved with fearless faint regret?
What's under our tongues
gone dawn dissolve and yet....
Dangerous, it's dangerous
hooker red and high like this.
Dangerous, it's dangerous
Yes.
______
LOL, love your label, "dare to post umprompted". There are such beautiful visuals in this poem: the "moon-gray shed", the "petal walls in my head", and the ravens going "blackly bright". Sigh. "It's dangerous hooker red and high like this" - but high on life is the best high there is. In awe, upon reading, as usual.
ReplyDeleteThis made me sing on the inside. What an amazing lyrical piece. Beautiful images, Shay.
ReplyDeleteExactly what I wanted. I think the answer to all those questions is "Yes." ~Often the most dangerous and exhilarating thing of all.
ReplyDeleteThank you for writing such a "dirty" poem.
So lyrical! And what can be better than "blackly bright"!!!
ReplyDeletei suppose growth is always a lil dangerous. but she ain't dirty. she's just bright right
ReplyDeleteShe rhymes, and so evilly! Such dirts sound like thirst. A dangerous music. Such precarious heels. Amen.
ReplyDeleteThere's something both deadly and harmonious about this, every word glowing, every image translucent with meaning...you are writing at the top of your form these days Shay--a joy, albeit a dangerous one, to read.
ReplyDeleteIn my head, this was read by a woman dressed to kill, lips the color of fresh blood, a lethal weapon in her hand, a grin on her face... She recites the poem while gliding towards a listener... That smile never leaves her face...
ReplyDeleteI can just see the satisfaction on the face of the one who indulges their curiosity by investigating this dangerous delight further. Sometimes we just have to know - even if we know that full knowing is a dangerous endeavor.
ReplyDeleteReads like music, as a good poem should.
ReplyDeleteWhat indeed is under the dirt, behind a smile, in our heads?
You ask questions, that possibly have no answers, or perhaps the answers change by the moment?
ReplyDelete"hooker red and high like this"
ReplyDeleteI love that repetition.
Danger... this is what we crave, but seldom seek (at least if you have survived being teenager)
ReplyDeleteSexy, powerful, walking the danger line all hooker red and high...Whew!
ReplyDelete