decaying

Her sin was curved into a violent moon,
sheltered by whore stars
that kneel for pleasures
enchanted by the penultimate hand
of a dying poetess
eternally bound under burning gods

there's a frantic cadence in her heart

beckoning once forgotten silhouettes

to bereave her tounge

so as to never speak the shames of midnight

and watch as her onyx sky

gradually seams a veil of paranoia



she developed an abstract love

for a vulgar world

when she kissed her ghosts

with decaying lips

and became impregnated

by the purgatory of addiction