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JM Feb 2015
Her skin is kissed by the stone lips of Luna; pale and cold are the curses between her legs.

My skin barely contains the poison underneath; the lies in my fingertips are centuries old.

She peels her skin off as I milk myself dry

Her breath is ancient flowers pressed between pages never meant to be opened; her ******* are polished granite, worn smooth by the bloodstained hands of old men who lost their souls
long before she
lost her virginity.

These dusty daydreams,
sun soaked and lazy thoughts
floating in the blue smoke
of an afternoon spent idling,
are the only way
I can drink your
milky skin
and not taste
blood.

*Scars taste better when you cry
JM Feb 2015
Water born lovers-
Ripples became tsunamis,
Floodplains bring new life.
Silt and fertile soil
Flowers blossom with love's rain
Sol consumes the fog
JM Feb 2015
Severed ties, cut cords;
I watched it all fall apart,
From a safe distance.
I could have made it worse. I could have made it better. Instead I did nothing and now there is a vacuum where once there was love.
JM Jan 2015
Shameless *******
***** knees and greedy mouths
Sublime  atonement
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