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Array
(
[sid] => 105626
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Torn
[time] => 2005-09-13 16:19:47
[hometext] => I don't know why... but a tear in a woman's stocking inspired this...
[bodytext] => A jagged path adorns your stocking like a streak of oil languishing on memories wept, My eyes can’t help but travel up the smooth plains of your calve, to the fullness of your thighs, And beyond... I wonder if it ends… And if it is eternal, does it weave repetitious threads of misery along the sanctums of your heart? (The roses of a lost love are always wilted... And the humid trails of melancholy taint more than just your cheeks...) Oh, flawed manifestation, oh woman, You wore your cheap, black stilettos to seduce me, With your dainty toes forever curled 50 degrees towards me, Freshly painted the color of toothless waitress fingers, And that insufferable tear, So enticingly caressing the side of your leg, Shrouding the heated kisses planted there, By the same hungry mouth that savored your honeys of pleasure... You’re dressed in the same wretched robes of despair as yesterday, The pieces of your broken smile leaves my eyes bleeding sympathy, Your depthless sorrow is revealed in the slow melody Clip-clap-clip-clap-clip-clap-clap-clip Of your $5 shoes, As you stumble past me with your mask of deception melting from your countenance... So hideously beautiful, so despondent and somber, With your priceless fragrance of lilies and strife, Your substandard stilettos and tattered stockings... Just like your heart... [comments] => 3 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 75 [informant] => FleurdeSang [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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