Carte Blanche

Listen to the crimson rattle! 
Death calls...
Feel the labyrinth shake!  
Earth moves...
Is it love pounding 
at the hearts door?
Or could it be 
the bubbling of skin 
so thick
that no one dare 
come close enough
nor get under it?
Embrace the roll that comes 
when notes and vibrations soar  
to hidden places sunken deep within
and we acknowledge
there is nothing more. 
Withered soul allows 
the moment to penetrate,
reverberate 
what life was meant to be...
Not an illusion 
or lack luster cover 
flip pages of magazine images. 
Feather dust creases of ageless eyes gleam.
Hiss, "...back at you baby..." carries no weight, 
no substance only darkest void.
A seductive glance 
back and forth high,
when the silver spoon 
falls methodically 
from perched thin lined lips.
And they never question why.
Commonality flies 
in the face 
of redundancy 
when our uniqueness 
separates us...by 6 degrees?
Carte blanche 
to a permanent place 
in a universe without boundaries. 

© 2014 TrilbyYates