For I shall find refuge
in the clysmic currents
of redemption.  
...                      ...

The night is a sanctum
for the unsettled thoughts
to linger
I plexure memories
into cobwebs of sillage

Trickling down my cavern,
venom of lies
gifted yore

I hang them as amulets
to elude cozen
But the ways of guile
can never be elucidated
they're protean in nature

You were the puzzle
I longed to unsnarl
Recounted chronicals
alew.

Thrum of your cordolium
struck me stiff
An open book I am
I let you in
clysmic your lesion heart.

Renewed in soaring spirits
you sung sonnets of love,
recited "Ain Soph"
the esperance of morrow.

Beguiled,
I lay my viridity bare.

Metamorphosed to your true self,
gloated in glee
"I am Siren,
lured you into my entrapment"

Walloped by your mordacious cruor
Stifled, my lips eat silence.

And now whenever I hear
the word 'Love'
All I see is
how damaged people are,
All I notice is
a hollow visage.

i ravage and tear at the love you give
my euphoria, autocratic
your lungs, your heart your liver your womb —
all exhumed by my hands.
fingers sharp, blistered and stained
untrimmed. revolting.
unhuman beside you – a seraphic.
i will spare you no metanoia
i eat
chew,
gnaw
spit
praise me, my love — let me unlace you
trace me like the rim of a chalice
let your rapture take over
for you're nothing but my meal.
don't be repulsed by my caprice,
my clysmic unmaking;
I am fueled only by your spite – your mind
I show my affection with torn nails, collapsed lungs
you have created me,
your desecrated image of yourself
an amen to your personal ruin,
don't you love this? i know you crave your own undoing
your rot and your pain
im a creature of opulence
Bénis-moi, mère, car j’ai dévoré,
et je ne suis jamais rassasiée
i have granted you your own resurrection —
this is your own invocation
i graze your flesh — my devotion becomes our ruin
i now savor you in revulsion
i despise you