afore death there is one unfrivolous blossom
blooming in a perilous garden who doth
converse with love and her ancient feathers
grope about the endless musk fat and rapacious
in the air fairies. olive skinned mutterings
dote 'pon the lucid fluttering angles of
wings. i felt and walked the paths littered
of decay and amour gently dead, skulls
grinning unfinitely. but a breeze greets
the stocks and buds, fragrant and huge,
mesmerizing the fickle lungs blowing stagnant
promises unkept. i butchered and laid my
hands to her core brimming of dainty
darkness and made my self in her blood.
i now wear it in every stifled beat, beat,
beating in my breast...