I could mother my own murder
if it was your dearest desire.
I could even make God apostatise.
My love is above the laws of those skies.
My appetite's omphalos is so gigantic that
It is grossly grander that the matter's habitat.
Time has to bear my divine ardor.
I'm made of the tears of the Tartar.
Do you want to know the truculent truth?
I'm pathetic,that's the succulent sooth.
I cosmeticize my flaws with florid flowers.
I was born to be the one that glamour glowers.
My poetry is a curious lie.
My mad masking makeup is meant to die.
I write but I don't incarnate
the chimeras that I ornate.
I am the slave of the vague visions of us,
Velvety but vicious like a vile venus.
I beg your pardon for having you as my religion.
I will forever treat you like an empyrean's scion.
I lack some dew
but I like you.
❤️
