Literature
The Seamstress
Woven in behind a steely pin
I find a serpentine, crimson strand
tied in a fine eye-teasing braid
My eyes trace its path in terror
as it darts above, beneath, above
my supple sundered skin
There, she swims shark-like
below, around and through me:
a submliminal, never subtle, vice
Her treacherous tracks trace
that fine line she's treading
'twixt trance and terror
The weave tightly binding
herself into that beeling edge
between bliss and blister
The broken, blood-pocked trail
betrays a trace of treason
through a brazen, red tattoo
There, dragged behind that
swimming needle, she's tethered;
writhin