I Need Her Skin (a ghazal sonnet)*

 

 
No longer can I sleep, I need her skin,
To bury my sins deep, I need her skin.
 
I turn the earth with hungry tooth and claw,
I feed until I weep. I need her skin.
 
Her blood gathers, pools into blue bruises,
Like me, seeking surface. I need her skin. 
 
She opens to me, asks the tiger in,
So stealthily I creep, I need her skin.
 
She turns feline eyes upon me, now I’m
The sacrificial sheep. I need her skin.
 
We circle one another quietly,
Our path unmarked, and steep. I need her skin.
 
We count small deaths, so dangerously sweet,
Dark promises we keep. I need her skin.
 
———————————–
This poem is my entry for the dVerse Poets Pub challenge to write a ghazal or a ghazal sonnet. Ghazal is an Arabic form from the sixth century. It has numerous onerous structural rules, including the inclusion of the poet’s name or alias as a signature in the last stanza. Read all about it, and link to the other entries here:
 
 
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About Wyeth Bailey

Raging my mid-life crisis. Reclaiming my riot girl youth. Resenting my overdeveloped intellect. Wyeth Bailey is a pseudonym. You may follow me on twitter @DangerousSweets View all posts by Wyeth Bailey

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