Apostasy

With heavy scars
and rapier hands
the day drifts
and drags as a
skipping necktie party,

my payment
is residue
on your bloodied
knuckles and
jagged rubified
simper,

dangling in the
cyanide pendulum
no colour
for detestation
shimmers
in the spectrum
of your iris,

I'm a
epiphanic caricature
waltzing with
eidolic reveries,

beefing up atrophy
within densen echoes
courting contusions
trickled as vinegar
flickered osculations,

dingy wavelengths
wrestle within
strychnine marrow
burying lead orisons
in a hyaline ossuarium.

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Quietusquill.All Rights Reserved.
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