Murder for the Perfect Ink
Justice League Challenge

I don’t know how it happens
By morning I always end up with a splitting head ache
Fully naked and with ink stains all over my body

Still trying to comprehend
And today is no different from the rest

* * * * *

Many has stood before me
And many have drifted like the wind
Plummeted down into the abyss
And become poisoned by my succulent lips
Become engulfed by my hand
And my words
Now I lurk for another pray
An unsuspecting soul
To become my poetic muse

As the days pass me by
My pen becomes weakened at my side
Inspiration dried up
When will my ink flow again?
I said…
Only to find him sitting there
His name said it all
Hart N Soul…a perfect candidate to take control
No topic left unspoken
Masterful pieces with many words it bleeds
Emotions and analytical thinking at its best
A perfect ink, I must confess

I will…
Slowly bring him towards me with my seductive ways
Speak softly … invite him in
Let his mind fuse within my thoughts
Til his pen, I have full control
Swallow him whole within my every breath
Make him submit to my feminine ways
Let my clothes fall before the night ends
And slowly let him touch and have me
Not knowing he will have his final breath

Lay above him
And let his words fuse with me
Til satisfaction is all he sees
And just when he close his eyes
And lie himself to sleep
I will walk in and slash him seventy-five times
Three for every poem
Erasing them from his memory
Deleting his craft from his existence
Letting blood and ink fuse and merge
Making me stronger than ever before
Only to watch him there
See the beauty that I created
As fluids are spilled everywhere
On the walls
On the bed
All over me
All the carvings I etched in his body
Mind
Heart and Soul
As I scribed my initials in his chest
Applied some Cherry Bomb Red Lipstick on my lips
And kissed him to make the imprint on his cheek
Bagged him up
Dumped him in a suitcase
Had the door man help me put you in my car
Only to drive you one hour away
Over to the George Washington Bridge
And down you go
Only to drive myself back
And fall right to sleep
With inspiration on hand
Only to wake up
With a splitting headache
And my body covered in ink
A stack of books filled with scribes
Inspired by you
And the newspaper on hand
With the headlines of a missing poet
Killed in the heat of passion
And his pen and pad are yet to be found…

While I salivate the taste of victory
Another poet demolished
And another pen in my clasp…

Mission Accomplished…

Planted Daisies2009