Degradation of Blood from the Bite of a Haar-colored Asp

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

A kiss made up of cloud turned into mist

Inside my mouth went past my tongue, met wet

And lovely tongue, slimed down inside my kissed

Throat deeply.  I can never, scarred, forget

The fog that settled in my lungs and veins

And arteries inside my ribs.  That fog

Caused damage there.  The fumes caused lingering pains

In chambers and in splits.  They felt the clog

Of white cocaine in sublimation in

My blood, in every part of my stained breast.

That one invasion felt like Satan’s sin

In Heaven, misty cobra in the chest.

  I cannot breathe that presence out.  It taunts

    My innards.  Impacts of it live in haunts.

~ Phillip Whidden