VULTURES
By: April Rameé circa 2006
Warm sun on the skin.
Pigments darken as the warmth pours through the body down to the heart.
Cool gentle breeze runs through the hair.
Releasing a scent;
leisurely escaping into the already intoxicating, luxurious smell of the earth.
Brown eyes glaze over;
attempting to internally burn the image of beauty into the mind.
Fingers grip the base,
Thorns puncturing; as the warm blood emerges to the surface, trickling.
Saliva builds and taste buds inflame;
finger to tongue flavors of salt and sweetness.
Soft petals rise to even softer delicate lips; caressing.
Touch and smell beyond ecstasy,
entrancing the mind and the libido to past memories and blissfulness.
Head back an orgasmic breath liberates out of slightly parted lips.
Everything black.
Soul transcends and ascends toward the warm sun.
Vultures devour the fresh sensitive skin,
as the hair is tickled by the humor of the wind.
Brown eyes, glazed, pecked at by vultures;
searching to steal the memories of the mind.
Blood trickles down beaks in its escaping fury from the body.
Soft feathers rub against the lips; caressing.
Vultures steal the last breath.
Rejoicing in the sweetness of death; of darkness.
Their own personal beauty.