La Petite Mort

my lover is arcane for, he only speaks in tongues he breathes cold, cadaverous air to fill my empty lungs Latin chants over freshly turned earth he comes creeping in the night when not another soul is heard beneath a new moon sky and in the howling wind he quietly stalks aching to nourish his…

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Amaranthine Memories

immortality blooms from your lungs the dark roses become a means for our memories I found myself in a spell of deeply romantic melancholy I love you in death, you have suspended me in a passion that I cannot quite understand, my love bury me in red roses forever

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Promise

blackness drips off of me yet it appears to you I am bathing in gold I reach for the night as silky dreams dissipate heavy drapes keep the bedroom pitch royal purple flecks of sunlight keep the heat in, amethyst set in copper conducts our electricity, static lightening between sheets, we melt into tungsten tears…

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