Punctured Beauty <br /> <br />the flesh punctures. <br />I wipe the blood away. <br />the phenix within me is felt <br />transcending my very being, <br />while the blood drips away <br /> <br />hypnotized with each caress. A refined sin, <br />more tantalizing than the sweetest ecstasy. <br />the death stare of a lion's eyes; <br />no match for the luscious sanguine taste, <br />that now rests in me. <br />I wipe the blood away. <br /> <br />the punctured skin <br />justifies my appetite, <br />as blood drips on the <br />soft, supple, silky pale skin. <br />I wipe the blood away. <br /> <br />my hunger for more <br />dimmed only by the alluring sight of blood <br />seeping through the torn flesh. I feel zoetic. <br />The blood seductively drips off <br />from the ruptured flesh I savor. <br />the blood drips away<br /><br />Minas Harutunian<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/punctured-beauty/
