Under Her Breast

The brilliant, sexy (and extremely modest) witchy woman hosting the Sunday Mini-Challenge: Carpe Jugulum, over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, invited everyone to craft a new poem that speaks of their thoughts/feelings on the following Terry Pratchett quote: “Don’t trust the cannibal just ’cos he’s usin’ a knife and fork!” And because I always listen to my delightful self *giggles-infused-cackles*, I accepted the challenge. 😉 Here is my Carpe Jugulum inspired poem. I will also link this piece to Holly’s Vampire’s Day Soirée.

“Under Her Breast”

Every heart fell
for the silver in his tongue,
for a mouth that licked minds
dazed
before sinking teeth into flesh;

every heart
but the one under her breast.

She had tasted
the fakery that oozed
out of the shine in his eyes,
watched him sign contracts
with the blood of shackled sheep,
while sitting on the backs
of the choice-robbed
and the enthralled.

She had wondered
if any of them would ever see
the muck that stuck to his bones,
the worms that rotted the hollows
that should’ve housed a soul;

will they sense the incubus
under the wealth-made halo,
or has he sucked all the marrow
out of their future and wits?

.
The Crimson Messenger, by Kristof Corvinus“The Crimson Messenger”, by Kristof Corvinus

99 thoughts on “Under Her Breast

  1. Why does this put me in mind of political candidates? LOL. Splendidly done. The speaker is wise indeed. I do want to respond to the prompt but it may take until Monday.

  2. Yes, I too feel there is a political parallel to this vampire, and the disgust and distaste of the narrator bleeds through the lines of a contract made in hell. So many silver tongues out there talking a delicious poison that too many willingly devour as it is so much easier to fear than to feel, to hate than to think…this is very immediate and scathing writing, Magaly, putting us there at the heart of corruption as a spectator-sport, helpless to understand how evil can use a knife and fork with the best of them. I suppose there is a reason they call the Devil the Father of Lies.

  3. I, too, caught the noxious whiff of political posturing and promises. A beautifully worded piece that speaks a dire warning to the heart to awaken and take heed. It was fun to see Kristof”s piece as a companion!

    • The truth is that I have no idea how anyone can breathe today, without getting a whiff of the current political stench. Such a mess.

      I was quite taken by “The Crimson Messenger”. I think I will be writing an entire post on her, on Kristof’s thoughts about the piece. She’s quite striking.

  4. “She had tasted
    the fakery that oozed
    out of the shine in his eyes.”

    Trust a women to spot a fake, love your tale and it’s when so well with the imagery. I’m personally not so sure she’s a slayer though going by the colour of erm *tea* in her cup. Sometimes it take one to know one and understand what’s truly under their skin.

  5. Ha, Debra is asking what I had in mind…..as I read I was asking myself why am I thinking of Donald Trump? Wonderful writing. Love the shackled sheep and the “hollows that should have housed a soul”. I am absolutely appalled by what is playing out……….

  6. You wrote a nice poem, Magaly. I always like to read what the prompt author has written for her/his prompt. A novel idea, the heart under her breast is probably her own. But also since Mrs. Jim stole my heart she has been keeping it under her breast. 🙂
    ..

  7. “She had tasted
    the fakery that oozed
    out of the shine in his eyes,
    watched him sign contracts
    with the blood of shackled sheep,
    while sitting on the backs
    of the choice-robbed
    and the enthralled.”
    This may be my favorite thing you’ve written so far.
    I was watching the news at a cafe the other morning (a rarity for me) and was appalled when the waitress said it looked like The Donald would be the next US president. What an embarrassment the entire process has become.

  8. This is brilliant!

    Trump crossed my mind too, although the creature you’ve envisioned sounds (albeit it horribly) charming, whereas Trump is not in the least. No silver in Trump’s tongue. Poo maybe, but not silver. 😉

  9. Sometimes we can see through people easily at other times our opinion is softens when we see an advantage for us; which makes us one of them. What an outstandingly powerful poem of corruption.

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