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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Profane Pleasures
You've touched my demons and embraced my brokenness.
Do you also feel the souls of those who came before you?
Oh, the raw pleasures of this beautiful, unholy piercing!
We flex,
folding slowly molten
into the baptismal bowl
where our lovely sins rise,
dancing on the surface like silver coins
over the dark broth of our past.
Do not fear death or its judgment! Our stories must all have endings.
Tonight, let us give all we have to this unholy smelting, and place our young flesh on the altar of lust as our designs require.
Your tears are beautiful, metallic, and warm!
Do you cry for the dying of this surrender, or at the high costs of these profane pleasures?
Do you also feel the souls of those who came before you?
Oh, the raw pleasures of this beautiful, unholy piercing!
We flex,
folding slowly molten
into the baptismal bowl
where our lovely sins rise,
dancing on the surface like silver coins
over the dark broth of our past.
Do not fear death or its judgment! Our stories must all have endings.
Tonight, let us give all we have to this unholy smelting, and place our young flesh on the altar of lust as our designs require.
Your tears are beautiful, metallic, and warm!
Do you cry for the dying of this surrender, or at the high costs of these profane pleasures?
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