The dangling moon
behind the ornate gate
waits for beheading.
*
Indeed I had
called you in dark to change
the name of slaughter.
*
Blood tastes salty,
when words were sweet, slicing
the white lilies.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 8:38 PM UTC
The dangling moon
behind the ornate gate
waits for beheading.
*
Indeed I had
called you in dark to change
the name of slaughter.
*
Blood tastes salty,
when words were sweet, slicing
the white lilies.