Wet, tangled, rubies pursed, death
cracked, closed casket….
Waiting for the end, the seasons
to bleed, for immoral to salute, and you
shall be my prized possession, the
one who wakes delviry, perched
on swollen, button eyes, silver
adorned on prickly skin….
Chilled to the bone, flesh
wraps around me, dreaming in
constant constellations….
Exposed, nooks and crannies blossom
as Night kisses, birthing shadows…
Glazed, dazed, worshiped on the potters
wheel, molded to fit damnation.
My soul battered, cracked, spilled
upon you…
In modesty, I close, done with nightmares,
so I huddle the corner drying from wept
dissection…..
PoeticDarkness 