We Are The Makers Of Our Fantasies, by Samantha Beardon at Spillwords.com

We Are The Makers Of Our Fantasies

We Are The Makers Of Our Fantasies

written by: Samantha Beardon

 

Flying high, bandits at Ten o Clock,
Bullets ripping into each fuselage 
tearing, burning, stripping
nerves bare, magnifying 
the tingling pain, which travels through the ether.
Leading us towards wildness – in this
aerial ballet.

Flying High, bandits at Ten o Clock,
We jockey for position,
Who will lead, who will follow,
 as we weave,
 Our wings become interlocked,
Lines blurred opposing teams conjoin,
Victor – versus – Vanquished.
 
  Pain
        Suffused
                Ecstasy
Fanning the flames 
     Gnawing
            Grinding
Glorification
 
 Bleeding from myriad wounds
We fly, locked together, 
Spinning, grasping, feeding on
the updrafts, and the others wounds,

My fuselage shot to pieces
I am dropping faster, torn skin 
sliding, wings detaching,
Have you the strength to match me?
 
Dropping
      Over a
                     Precipice
Will we tumble together
    in unison
           Shafted
                    Saturated
       Sated
Hold the Connection –

 Flying high, bandits at Ten o Clock
     Torn
             Eviscerated
Fused.
We are the makers of our fantasies.

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