iv'e have not quite come to terms with that dark thing that lives within me oh lord have mercy upon ophidian's soul have you not enslaved me with desires despicable drawn darkness over me with a black wands curse into feral gates castellation as I sleep towards mournings flaring sun with aches infernal ****
i behold images of hung women sway-less heads pressed firmly against stone walls legs and feet splayed behind squandered treasures ******* yellow soaked with ***** so ghastly my darling so touching oh lovely horror
she said to die that way in a little room somewhere would be perfect so easy even pleasant as lips brush caressed she cooed whispers protect me from from theΒ cruelty of grizzled age and heaped infirmities like stones on threadbare silk that unravel and tear souls sorry and dull until collapse
standing tippy toes her head on my shoulder arms around my neck my soul her mausoleum undulating as if a rounded wind eyes like rushing poems pleading
a bloodless brain she mused better than the delirium of glittered fizz cocktails
we could do it in easy stages all tender accommodations as you lasso the rope gently around my neck and attach to a sturdy handle then lay me firm upon white linens with wet-lipped kisses and let me drop weightless like a slipper off a foot into sweet night tides nirvana