lily hills white

des bougies de l'église catholique

it was a forest of spruce alight.

a ravenous renaissance, a hungry cathedral that only bled carmine, carmine red.

god's kingdom of sin, tongue to teeth, breast to breast.

a revival of rome and ancient greece, the burning of pompeii,
the resurrection of mesopotamia.

dusted soil speckled her cheeks,
she swore like cap-toothed pirates,
rays of gold
cavorted and swirled me tight-bound.

i wanted to be one with her wilderness,
embers in the decedent of night,
the saber that protected
but never, ever hurt.

she was wildfire, light but just as easily ash.