succour

an inky satin tongue in dark wailed dirge
dissolves deep across my faithless filth

will you weep once more if i insist again
to press soiled notes in your palms tonite

the night surrenders smoothly, ripping away
much of what has been designed to evanesce

you have served well ( i feel ) relived; and so
a sliver of shame i shall keep, unused for you.