Into the vapid singularity,
He's ****** forth, whole.
The wasp fly's by, unfettered.

She toils amongst the gravel.
Blood eageled by her hollow gains.
Timid, as time slips softly across her lips.

Time slips around open wrists,
that yearn for redemption.
Tracing crosses in the sky.

Hallowed, and hollowed. She contains her sick spells.

Veridian green billboards with a vetitver scent.

But red with wine and regret.