January 2001 / Volume Two / Issue One
Caroline Gupton

Young flesh in motion
skin less than flawless
softened through thick smokey veil.
Graceful on sadistic spikes
gliding and sliding to the
rhythm of loud music.
From the mirrors I see
reflections of a past life left behind,
while phantom pains haunt my feet
who cry out to me of past tortures.
Retired to more subtle cruelties
I am now in the audience chair.
Kisses blown from amused ladies's lips
mingle with the smoke and vanish in
the air like a well spent youth.
From long ago, far away
vague memories reassemble and draw
me back to a time when I felt
the heat of infrared tracking from
lustful eyes, and first tasted the awesome
power of raw sensual abandon;
privileged to sleep briefly
beneath the belly of the beast
        finding where its heart truly beats.
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