She danced in the corner of his crimson eyes,
Ballerina,
Veiled in soot laced grace,
A whisper in silk,
Threading noose with a courtesan's embrace,
His pulse wrote sonnets for her laced with cyanide,
Where the stench of rot wore perfume and tasted like perfume.
He dreamt of her fingers,
Frostbitten lullabies on throat's edge,
A lover's blade in satin glove,
Wrapped tight in viper's pledge,
At last he moaned beneath her weight,
Devoured bone and breath and sin,
Darkness parted her lips like scripture,
And silently pulled him in.
~ Sapphirus
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Loner.
PoetryPoetry written by yet another individual just existing throughout as any other being like any of you, experiencing life and suffocating thoughts.
