Exchanging Favours.

She was Hitchcock’s Bruno Anthony, a devilish
sort of woman, she and I met on a train going nowhere

Death and dalliance, she had wickedness
written all over her, brutality excreting from the
thin roots of her mane, raw magnetism from
her foul tongue

We were strangers on a train, lovers by night
she was my prisoner in transgression
I scratched her back, giving her more than
she deserved, she ripped mine open
severed wounds and bottomless gashes, she
blossomed in the blood pouring from
my eyes

There was no honesty in her promises
no integrity in her keepsakes, she once
pinky-promised me the world
and broke my finger

She is a mess, this harlot I met on a
train with the chapped lips
she must have known that I danced on the edge
awaiting the fall –

She must have realised
that I hadn’t the heart to jump
but coveted, almost desperately
for someone to goad the push.

(via thewritersaddress)

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  2. thewritersaddress reblogged this from thewritersaddress and added:
    She was Hitchcock’s Bruno Anthony, a devilish sort of woman, she and I met on a train going nowhere Death and dalliance,...
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  6. This was featured in #Poetry
  7. exhalingcatalysts reblogged this from thewritersaddress and added:
    Side Note: The imagery is taunting and the flow is breathtaking.