Eyes of the Night

young girl sleeps in naked form. eyes watch. candles flicker.

shadows dance a midnight secret. truth to be told or his hands just kept still?

girl from next door sleeps on pillow below. a fantasy tempting but no-one will know.

her long soft hair flows through the bed. ends of torment lead to unknown.

not much time before his secret explodes. new dreams ferment & loving hands roam.

a gentle light kisses her shoulder. a touch of caress from a skin much older.

friend of a friend lies silently beneath. this child of an angel who followed her lead.

so simple to taste her, her lips sweet formation.

but resistance is kept, pleasured stimulation.

enough for tonight just to sit & watch her.

a lingering pressure & a soft delicate hand.

kiss goodnight to her gently, his minds eye engorged.

candle is taken & darkness withholds her.

a blanket smile across her form & slowly, carefully, the old man withdraws.

(c) Ed Simkins

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All Because I loved You

Have you heard I’m famous here for murdering a child and selling her for cash?

Have you heard the lies, or seen the house in which I burned and flickered in the night?

Did she tell you the truth to which she kept? The fallacy of her every word?

Her hand in mine was a gentle gift, one which the Lord did give to me.

Her pretty name was ‘Natasha’ but I shan’t tell you much more. Her story revels in words sold you see.

But we were in love you see. Til the day she was five when she stole the last of my hidden gems.

We used to play in the tree houses beyond and swim in the cool spring rivers downstate.

But tonight my house burns. Gentle flickers illuminate the haunted spray of stars

& the women outside pitch my walls in vile contempt – though they see no truth in love or vice.

I hold your tender picture as the flames lap spiritually around. As they spit and call my name.

My age is six, but they made me lie, & now they force me to sit and cry.

Mom and dad are far away & left to save their name.

So here I am alone again, thinking of the girl I love.

Burning.

Burning.

(c) Ed Simkins

Books To A Red Kiss

Scarlet child played with dreams and books and frozen words

with pictures of innocence that I thought absurd

I misplaced her book and combed her hair

& within the library of silence I took her hand with care

she smiled with knowledge and danced with glee

an empty floor she shared with me

twas but a joy to find such succulent dreams

within a world of broken & blooded scenes

& in those moments in which she touched my hand

we roamed together across her fertile land

her skin inviting, our secrets formed

her mouth exciting, her body warmed

& as she smiled and her soft hair encroached

i whispered in her ear and softly hoped

wrapped in love and naked beneath

i found in her my new belief

a secret scarlet girl of words

an event that Nabokov would call absurd.

& henceforth now dear friend i ask of thee

to tell to none this fantasy.

– Shush.

Last Sleep

Child asleep on broken bed of dreams

Beside a curtained wall of ruined hope it seems

Such innocence that once ran through her weary head

In ageing pain has now but fled.

Her stolen hair forlorn and grey

Fills hopeful yearnings for a further day

But her body aches & though in love it finds

A soothing tension due to another’s mind

She’s yet but huddled up in child-like pose

With her naked body stripped of clothes

& yes, it seems so simple to burn one’s eyes

When her last golden breath arcs, a-rise

& so as the worn out girl takes her last

Her once loved soul does come to pass.