black eyed Venus
your lascivious confessions
a voice of thorns
made the priest *******
and for seconds he felt close to his god

i burn for you on this
iron jawed fire escape
crying on your thighs
as if landing on a dream
like a canon
that could take out the moon

feel me fickled fingers
I am potters clay
prom queen
*** goddess
luminous dusty winds
of the miraculous

everything is about death
even being born
clouds like asphalt flowers
and ancient monks

her mouth
wet like peaches and syrup
her beauty
an arrow in my throat
and the moon claims the light

i consume you a thousand times
before i die by your hand
oh so willing
tired of living in this dead house
of harsh destiny
palanquin of lust and blood

A tip for you,
A rent for me.

I cannot seem to evade this sense of doom,
From the feeling of constantly failing when I was meant to bloom.