This machine and Her Colored Robes

This machine and her colored robes.
My ghost self came to me and said," Fire! Your silk promises grant me nothing".
Flow jealousy at this skin.
Envious of how I feel with a stranger in it

I blacked out and swam ever so deprived and cold...
burning hot though.

May thee bequeath me!
may thee keep me, a
solid barren boiling broth lying naked in a sand dune,a seed of sin and selfishness,
human as hell.
Because I saw goddess standing there
Inside me.... like thee wanted to be
I stared into the starving, flesh-eating light and there were so many men.....
broke buzzards, black suicide beetles, and handless
demigods that only gave me ghost pleasures.


Thee,
even with a pyx,
my love is too bard to be kept under ones soaked sheets and invisible blood.
"This temple will be used......"
No.
My temple is temporary.
Therefore I have no guilts.
No regrets.
The woman is alive.
And I see thee, a daunting dune no more.
And i curse the hole fiercely.