Eppure Drena

we could have
           snuggled silence

in the inverted bosom
      of a embroidered whirlwind

where a tilt-a-whisper endgame
     mainlines beheaded attrition
        into those
scarred and brocaded
             nights,

christening a hodgepodge
            of
detached days,

and I bled my church
          into the textured Hades of you
    as our purgatory arose
           from trickle stitched homicides

while pearled wraiths
     hug the high crimes
on the clavicles
     of low hung rapscallions

viridian is the skull
       scalene it careens
within  
    scallion scullions

they stay silky and vapored
as Wakizashi hisses
     through the sullen soil
into your nape where heat-seeking
     Reapers weave waving vespers.

  Sangre por sangre, obligado por el integridad.

as shackled shells
     on a limed line
excavating the levitation
                for littered likes

lycanthrope lyrics
       tug the
defiling rankle
    
of the bivouacked shrill shed
        where Eve,
pegs Lilith,

convecting tattooed Sanskrit
into the crimped chorus of you,

where Damascene
shadows of espionage,
purged the imprinted afterglow
from the shroud of seeped susurrations,

impale
   the pongy incongruence
with your
        shrieking
jeremiads,

        as my death,
    
      sips it’s cappuccino,
rich and frothy
          to the last swirl
    
flickers kaput
                 in my azur….
         lanterns.