marți, 8 martie 2016

In thy heathen temple



Mimicry of the lead heavens is foreseen in the lake…
Amidst time’s neurotic drippings
Lye echoes of hearts in splinters.
Your wise witches cast endarkened spells
And stich it anew,
With Eros’s arrows they tattoo your barcode upon me,
Accusing my sins of innocence in twisted pastels.
The fickled thoughts that roar inside me are
Infinite deeds to be enacted upon thy lustful stage…
The icon of you bestows the articulate
Judgments of the blissful flesh;
Thy lips entrap me with the sweet
Shackles of burgundy lipstick,
Forsaking my DNA to vagrantly roam
In thy feline body’s ambrosial jail –
A mesmerized universe quivering
For all time in thy heathen temple.