Heart Lust, Death Lust

This is how he began, how
he began to start his heart,
pound it out after the boy,
the boy wrapped in untucked
gauze and un(or re or still)
blooded scabs of pleasure.
The boy, he laughed—shouted
like the god-possessed
mummy in a spirited haze,
gently unraveling his wraps
in a slow-motion ballet
that tossed fabric over pyramids
and through a golden eye.
An eye that gazed through
his maidenly form, his virtuous
haste-movements with a
raised eyebrow of grandmother
approval. An eye that jumped
into the heart that began mere
epochs before to beat, beat
with the rhythm of love-lust,
want-lust, let me hold you in
my arms lust. And that boy,
he smiled up into that
penetrating glance with a
wiseman child, know this is
how it is taunt. 'If you can get
me, I'm yours' (forever). 'Get
him' sighed the eye, and
the heart leaped out of its
chest cage and grasped at
the slippery boy, that agile dancer,
tossing gently a net of blood
to hug him fiercely, devotedly,
hungrily. The boy half-kneeled
and nervous-giggled, returning
the heart to its owner with
shy-mischievousness and trembles
of joy, plucked out his eyes
to lay at his feet, and ended
the chase with a teary-
socketed 'marry me.'

20 Feb. 07