Serial Lover Poem by Stefanie Fontker
Serial Lover
War is her first love,
And death is her mistress.
Sitting in fire and raping
What few flames dare to burn.
Licking at the wounds
Of the deadest of the dead,
Her veins are frozen
And her heart is made of ice.
Sipping on the blood of swine,
And slitting her wrists
Of the teeth of her father,
Her triumph is a messy one.
Its really amazing. I like it. One of my novellet is called 'Maya Mistress' in that Death is appearing as mistress. I am voting '10'
I think I am a bit too naive to understand the full meaning of this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 1:08:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Took a lot of reading behind the lines, of separating the images but I get this. It's tough but honest and we all have to put something back in to get it out. You are superb at metaphors.