he, the aether ~ {iii}

i wear the perfumed nights;
blood orange
{&} evergreen
in the shadow ov my breasts,
molecules ov memoria
as bitter as they're sweet ~
... i write in the scents
ov your native soil,
accented curs{iv}e notes
caught on
the curve ov your tongue ...
you swallow my musing whole,
not savouring the discord
caused there
where the wind ate my words
my tongue lies
dead in your mouth, a sacrifice
to your wanton destruction,
the caviar'd curses
carved on my palate
my throat
between my thighs ...
... i am an ode
to slaughterhouse love songs,
peeled from myself
{&} devour'd in moments
when you are ravening

we bathed in nightjar tears, flayed
hostia thin petals from our throats
& cast our eyes 30° across the lines that ley beneath our feet.
i fed you broken glass in uneven shards, knotted
fly-away curls in the indecent length ov your own
& buried my heart in an apple core.

i tasted the drum beat,
heard it in my soles
as they press'd naked
to the womb into which you
ploughed baptised hands.
the frayed cords licked my cheek
tethered to bone & feather,
dust kissed by your fervor.
Written by _shadoe_ (.............)
Author's Note
for him who
keeps my skin in
a mason jar ov dark rum
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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