Blood Into Ink

steven arnston

Curs-ed, I sang song

spells; wasn’t I beautiful?

Men left in my wake

stunned by my cunting cocaine

lips, pink aphrodisiac.

Did I look pretty

with your spastic heart in hand?

I sang you song spells–

anesthesia to numb pain.

Babe, you bled with mighty grace.

Curs-ed, I sang song

spells; you were so beautiful;

will stronger than mine.

I bled with shame under fists,

and between your canine teeth.

Did I look pretty

in the corner shadow dark?

You sang me song spells–

anesthesia to numb pain;

wings shorn, and larynx muted.

Curs-ed, I sang naught.

Retribution accepted;

a spirit broken,

siren bled with much disgrace.

Would penitence ever end?


Did I look pretty

when I tied your hands in knots?

I spat your venom

back in your face–freed my voice,

and grew new wings, pure dove white.

*art: Steven Arntson

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10 thoughts on “Siren

  1. I remember when I read this on Blood into Ink, I’m working my way backwards through your timeline but I swear this is my favorite I think so far. But the day is young and i’ve many more poems to read!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Another piece that mesmerizes. I am enthralled by the flow and the way you stitch together words that so beautifully create the world that dazzles with its rawness and obscurity at first yet as the poem progresses the eloquent undertones gently awake familiar senses and deep feels to a point of suddenly finding self smack in the middle of the raging verses absolutely hoping that the ride never ends… Simply marvelous beyond!

    Liked by 1 person

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