GUEST POST // Rats with Wings by Field of thorns

My apologies to you, for I stole you away
In the dead of the night, whilst you did slumber
In a semiconscious state
I stole you away, in the dead of the night
In the cloak of the rain, and of the thunder
We made our escape, is it any wonder?
I saw how you looked at me, and I too was looking at you
I know I took you without your permission
But, I saw how you were looking at me.

Do not be alarmed, you are my very last part, last part
Last part, of my precious machine
My precious thought machine
A machine made just for two
Where you can be me, and I can be you
In exchange for your thoughts, I give you my heart
You are my very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

Close your eyes and let my thoughts in
And a new beginning, will begin, and begin
Don’t be afraid, like the others before
I have given you the key to my heart, my heart
I saw how you were looking at me
And I too was looking at you
You are the very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

We have arrive at the shore, the beautiful shore
Where things are pretty and dreamy once more
Pungent smell of camphor wafts through the house
Covering the fragrance of death and decay
Here, we are alone at the shore, just you and I
Where you can be me, and I can be you
I saw how you looked at me, and I too was looking at you
In this lovely house for two
My lovely precious thought machine
A machine made just for two.

Please do not think of escape
No crying, scratching, screaming or such
There is nowhere to run, and no way out
I’ve locked all the windows, and all the doors
Of my precious thought machine, my machine by the shore
Let us sit quietly enjoying each other’s thoughts
In exchange for your thoughts, I give you my heart
You are my very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

The gulls in a frenzy upon my return to the shore
How they scream, how they squawk
Louder than the waves knocking upon the door
Who knew my gulls were of the carnivorous sort
How lucky for me, my rats with wings, how they eat, how the eat
They love me and the extra parts that I bring
What they leave behind, sinks to the bottom of the ocean deep
Where things are pretty and dreamy once more.

In time, I know you’ll find I’m perfect for you
In our magic precious thought machine for two
Where you can be me, and I can be you
Just follow my lead and all will be true
I saw how you looked at me, and I too was looking at you
I know I took you without your permission
But, I saw how you were looking at me
In exchange for your thoughts, I give you my heart
You are my very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

by FIELD OF THORNS
© All rights reserved 2015

Oops!… We Did It Again (Broken Tan(‘)ka)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2014-2018

Ulysses

I look at you.
I smell a rat.

Your familiar coo
And your skin is matt.
Hallelujah is in your voice
And this smell is my biggest hardship.

It looks like I have no choice.
I again stand on this airstrip.

I look at you.
I smell a rat.

My thoughts are a clew.
Bryan Adams sings… Drat!
It’s time to pay my invoice.
It’s time to break this grip.

Love loves to love love.
Do you love Joyce?
I see how you’re touching your lip…

I look at you.
You smell like a rat!

All this makes me spew.
I take up my gat.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014