She Claws at My Heart


She claws at my heart with an elephant’s tusk

and the image of the maggot no man can kill,

teasing from my soul marrow with a dentist’s drill

drawing me further into her hearth in light’s dusk.


She claws at my heart with a fork for manna

dissecting my nakedness on a platter too full,

bound wrists against steel feeling lips of cruel

twisting, cutting, tearing in a torturer’s manner.


She claws at my heart to see me underneath

drawing me out into a red blue shimmer

letting my blood dry like laundry in summer

under the cold glare of her sun, her white teeth.


Rochester, 2016


Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15 or



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About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on
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