A kinda surrealist style poem I wrote awhile ago that I'm still proud of.

Ughhhh I really have too shake this writing block off! Anyway, here it is. 

As always; no stealing--it is published elsewhere with timestamps!

Lover

We are trapped in the touch
of one another—
a pair of writhing rabbits
snared within the
last dying rays of sunlight,
and the night unfolds
with us slung helplessly across
its blue-black shoulder—lost
in the satisfaction of a hunter’s
earthly pang; hunger
and warmth conjoined
at the mouth.

We are large, obsidian flies
drowning in a green glass
bowl filled to the brim with
sugar water—our siphons
desperately scanning as
our slick arms and legs
try to climb one another.
Transparent wings instinctively
searching for wet carcasses,
or violet figs—mushy dark
plums, or honey; we found
heaven instead.