the dining of open flesh,
bares its bitter bourbon taste of silence
into a room masking ****** with romance.

the disguise of trampled hedonistic elegance
from dead mouths, liberates black moons, stolen
from charcoal hairs of blood fed suns.

the devil pleads golden,
rinsing off broken souls,
pushing them to their belonging tides of famished sea.

lathering ashed breast bones prepare starving vessels
into hissing snakes, into a porcelain face.

banking celestial existence weeps into tortured passions,
feasting on self destruction.

a desired blackened grave blooms venom,
knotting its unnoticed self to daring victims,
harvesting a norm of perpetual sin,
dwelling real and unchangeable; like gravity.

the dining of open flesh,
swears its inevitability.