deepundergroundpoetry.com

Tongue of Angry Bones - with Betty

Wilting garments
of the petal's flesh
skins this new need from my angry bones

and you reach one
finger to touch
my cheek,
like it�s a
decadent flower
of the orchid's oboe

but my dead-girl eyes
arouse you
in shiny new ways
as I pin up my hair
and sink
breathlessly
surrendering

to the tongue

(quiet sigh)

You give me some fancy
bullshit like
�the solstice keyholes
the ink's dark quill�

when I just want to fuck
like a fallen angel
covered in spines

and you,
in rapt adoration
of amorous hemophilia
pull me closer,
fading to pale
as you bleed out
against my
unkind mouth

I shine
in shadows
of the naked inkwell,
and the fetish of
my teeth on your
chaotic flesh
a new ritual spell

Give me darkness

Show me how
even Venus
gets dicked over
when freeing the
lotus of
a darkening hell
swells beneath the
Ovid metamorphoses

my body thrashes
a typhoon
weakening
the sake
of sanity

And you claw
at words
like a lost soul
influencing the
raptures of seance �

but I am a corpse
without a ghost
and I leave

the wilted
orchid

at your grave