The Tongue of Angry Bones - with adagio

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