Covered in sawdust
i thought i was numb.

The fair queen sits indifferently on the icy throne-
as cold as her ivory skin of polish marble.
Her lips so red, so -


I'm tangled up in you, invisible runes tattooed on the walls glowing,
alas, here comes the morning.
- but falling always hurt.


The nymphs have fled.
Inside her ugliness swallows her whole.
In her blackened flesh, she reaches out
with bleeding hands.
Should i turn and leave?
the maggots in her eyes squirm with
life and a sort of reverberating,
almost hypnotizing
energy -

i-
-forgot.



Of angels and demons tunneling into your
dreams, whispering poetry and coaxing
sullen flesh with cool silk and a lover's burning
touch.
A mosaic.
Dark, thick threads, constantly weaving-
crude ropes
- wrapping the fray around your throat.
Hush, just don’t forget to breathe.

Beautiful she is, soft lips pressed against the unblemished smoothness of the sweet plum she
holds

so

delicately

under spring's dusk.
i can almost feel the fire in her hair
scorch my cheek.

I lay broken amongst the ruins.
Why did you have to go?

-purl-