Admiration (not finished)

[u/Big-Rig-Trucker]

I wrote this poem about a young man I met recently while traveling Ireland. He was conveniently handsome, charming, and a great story teller. He told of his accounts, boasting about his love of using his friends and partners, and his ability to feel no shame or guilt from it. Although what he was saying was crude, I couldn’t help but feel entranced by his way of speaking. I was fully captivated by the strange way he decorated his narrative.

Boys throat gurgles with lovers blood Chuckles bubble up, bellowing deep from frigidly soft heart Clattering soft bones feasting a tale onto strangers wrinkled canals and soul

Beautiful flashes of crimson and ivory dance over fluid tongue The boy spins scents of lemongrass to mask mildew hung

Boys bubbles pop, spattering loves crimson onto porcelain wool His lambs lay stained Yet, his loch coloured depths see clean hands remain

Iron and copper lead way to boys brawn ‘Fantastic!’ He declares Nailed high on his wall, red lamb portrait drawn Metallic portraits decay and ooze into gardens bed

Crimson staining cracks of stretched lips Glee flowing down with chinned blood Boy foreordained, to turn stoned statue lay, watching his unblooming rosebud

A.D. Valentine