Two Sides Revisited (2010)

Like a swarm of savage bees

Befallen and taken by surprise

The faces mauled, the putrid smell

 Of flesh which skin cannot conceal

The blood oozes with cringing walls, and creeks

With hairy mass, in fringe spaces of sublime

Stabbed in wounds, she clings on with fingers clenched

Around her knees, as fluids pass and gashes cold

Suspended, a taste of infinity

She killed a bird, and cried

Through violence did she reassert?

And anger cannoned through her veins

She wanted blood in return,

Her gentle soul, seamless  

The whiteness of her skin, the stillness of her jaded glance,

She prays to god for her virgin heart,

She loves to walk on crowded roads,

To watch the baby in the pram,

To hop across the pavements marked 

With games of squares and knots

She loved the beggar boy,

Who waits across the candy shop? 

With frenzy, she rocks the marble floor

When markets smell of rotten fish,

And meat shops slaughter by the road 

She squats heavily with heaving breath,

 Her body stilled....she struggles hard, to make or break her boundaries....

She knows the feeling of discharge; she hates it when she feels displaced,

Bottled in a mire of images,

Of gatherings in a parking lot, of needle pricks, and oxygen valves

Of incisions made deeper than medical insertions, in private alleys or public gigs.

Her peace is raided when she sleeps

Her body heated when she dreams,

Her anguish, un-sustained,

She feels a need to kill

She waits, in agony, she struggles in pain

She hates her guts, she feels so frail

Her ambush is inflamed, her lack of power to withdraw

Her incapacity to resist or warning them from being led

 Through the dark recesses of sublime, to the chambers of the repressed

Through intercourse of actions and reactions,

Through penetration of forces and strain 

Through spasms and orgasms,

Through existence and annihilation

She forces through her heaving sighs      

 A sharpness so ejaculated,

And blood, gushing in her mouth

through pulses motored by the veins,

Her whiteness robed in a scarlet gown.

And her vision blurred with bleeding fumes,

She pushes her fingers within her emasculated depths

She closes her eyes, seamless in her passivity

She has her closure for the time