Gothic Rendezvous

sunlight in a wonded hand
grasping for bitter-sweet ale
as my body lies in a heap
on the fallow grounds
spitting poison on my grave


as my harlequin eyes gaze
ghostly sister calling from cemetery
from the aftermath of war cries
bleeding clovers... crimson lips
​

back to the ocean, I scream
at the harpies swarming overhead
swooping down upon the garden
where my sister's ghost lays


matchstick girl  this morning
she found stars laying at her feet
smoldering from dragon's fire
and a calloused heart, torn-out roughly

              

upon her cherry red lips
she bites the poison apple
sleeping amongst poppies
planted in layers...opium drips


as I, the poet stab my quill
onto the parchment, letting
words bleed, from open scars
and a calloused heart