Lady Lightning

Beside the raging storm, 
we are equal.
We are blind, mad with love, 
the close of famine tingling at our fingertips.

We drive bone against bone, 
and rain slicked flesh slips between us 
with concealed grace. 
We burn with insanity.

Thunder pounds through lightning’s entrance, 
and ephemeral light, 
spiked with holiness, 
reaches toward the intangible. 
Legs sprawl though mud pools, 
while clutching cries compete
with Heaven's electric orchestra.

Blades of grass slither though our hair,
juicy pink secrets are revealed, 
tongue's rounding curves to find joy's beginning.

Hunger overtakes us both:
Skin parts muscle, 
arms are torn asunder 
and our eyes are sucked, chewed, 
While the sky illuminates again and again, 
while the thunder rumbles 
in my one remaining ear.

by Alex Sinclair

Email:  trazism@gmail.com