Tonight, the moon is dressed
in lavender shadows, and
rhinestone starlight.

A showgirl dancing on
a windowsill, she tempts
a dreamer to shed inhibitions.

There’s no yesterday
or tomorrow at midnight.
Luna’s wink through the curtain
is a kiss without regrets.

The only thing
you two have in common
is your sign:
Pisces.

And I’m the mermaid
who’s already chosen
which one to keep—
but still,
I wanted you both.

Reflecting on that ambivalent experience,
from long ago,
I realized our encounter was neither a story
nor a moment deserving ink.
It was simply a dare
between the inhabitants of two distant islands.

Drawn by a dreamy summer breeze,
We ventured out against the waves,
to share a forbidden touch,
then quickly retreated to the safety of our shores,
returning to our prescribed paths,
to never give it another thought.

It was a mutually agreed-upon contract,
leaving no room for confusion,
formed even before the idea of,
crossing those waters tempted our hearts.
Like water under the bridge.

My ambitions made me devour you.
Blinded by pleasure, just to seek sweet relief from you.
You're the devil in this seduction.
You're devotion wrapped in silk.
You're not Eve, not Adam,
but the hiss beneath the tree
that I willingly bit.

How can I forget your scent?
It lingers like fog after a shower spent.
Will you take me to paradise,
or burn with me in the fiery pits?
Every time you're near, the tides in me arise.
Your touch feels like damnation.
Every time I feel you, I'm further away from salvation.

Blood has never tasted this good,
tears have never made me look so good.
Will you look at me as you sing my name?
Do you even hear me pleading as I try to be sane?
Are you the chaos who will unravel what's underneath?
Tell me all your secrets while I am beneath.

You taste like blasphemy,
taking away all the holiness in me.
Your hands continue to taint me.
The way you move has been taunting me.
Being with you feels sacrilegious.
Devotion has never felt this good when I'm not even religious.


- N.V. 🥀

Glass tears dance on the lawn of dreams –
offered sweetness at hand; while the Beast
breathes fire over frost; black fur coiled in winter’s
chill, his warmth a lie dressed in comfort.

He offers blindness as a blessing, the bliss
of the thoughtless path. In the silence of white
winter, you take his claw, mistaking it for a hand.
“To die for”—a morbid metaphor— what is the gift
of a Beast meant for?

Around him, the dancing lich spins— leeches
birthed  from tombs of need. A cliff that clefts;
as a cleft lip cannot speak the truth, it only bleeds.
Closed eyes cannot paint the dark—
but they stay loyal  to its canvas.

Left bereft—travelers avoid certain subjects:
being sick of yourself, tasting your own *****.
But hush now— we’ll skip the topic. Change the
subject. And bury that scent.

As she was sent; and of all the objects she takes
from the Beast—he cures grief with a sugar-coated sting.
But bittersweet is still a shade of sweet, it rots your teeth,
and maybe he works with the tooth fairy to collect what
decay leaves behind.

But in the cold, no one heals— they run to the hills,
as their heels are clicking in panic of snow-bitten ground.
Perhaps this time, Little Red took the wrong road—
and the wolf she met, has grown hungrier from
feasting quietly on empty bones.

      ....there's no-one to save her at all.

Unfulfilling love.
A lingering feeling so strong
its power engulfed my body.

Sensations coursing blood through and from my body
Baiting us to fall ill to our temptations and temptors.

All I see is a deep blue
imitating the flame of desire prancing around my room.

On my bed, there is nothing but that color I see.
It’s deep yet it fades—
Both the color and the feeling.
The feeling of a serpent gone & nearby.

Interesting and celebrated mortals,
made immortal
in a novel way,
the world as
imagined,
that once,
the lost
generation, weren't we all aware…

history, back to eve, mito-mom, good sci
easy believing, no sweat, no after effect,
faster fasting,
slow learn the chants, can't we sing
if we wish
trumpet in a concrete canyon blown blue

morph
phain, feign gnosis, yes, this is the better,
ever after
that ever before.

Breathe. Think, a steady state of suspended
dis-be, leads to un-be edu to be
lief or not.

Is that a lot to ask?
Not om om
my god, I think,
I am,
but I could be wrong, I lost this game
once.

The Hunger,
inescapable,
rumbled throughout
your celestial body.
Temptation whispered in your ear
of more—
Greed and Sin
beckoned you,
too close to the sun.
But you, in a haze,
blindly complied.

Against Him.

Your wings burnt
in the scorching heat.
I saw the tendrils of deceit
encapsulate you
as your wings grotesquely contorted.
Flecks of burning faith crumbled
to nothingness.

A wordless scream
left your lips.
Almost instantaneously,
you, writhing,
catapulted—
a freefall of fate—
until you hit
the gritty ash
of betrayal
below.

You betrayed Him,
and so you became
eternally ******,
scattered in the winds
of Hell,
my fallen angel.

Part I — Divine
The Mortal Speaks

Her rosy cheeks, her auburn hair,
Enchant the breeze with sweetness rare.
Apples and peaches, ripe on the vine,
Voluptuous grace in soft moonshine.
Evenings, like wine, drip from her lips,
Nectar no god or man dare sip.

Seldom does a star descend,
Eclipsed by longing none could mend.
Nearer she draws—divine, undone,
Tonight, I burn, one with the sun.

Part II — Carnal
The Goddess Speaks

How strange, this ache no god should feel,
Each glance from you—so raw, so real.
Love was a myth I sang in jest,
Lust, now a flame I can't contest.

Beneath my skin, a storm that calls,
Over my throne, temptation sprawls.
Untouched by fate, you bent the law—
Never to rise from passion’s thrall,
Deeper into hell’s flames I fall.