Turbulence, Lipstick and Dust

The symphony imploded below the window sills of my heart.

I held you and absolution became dust and grief. You knit me

Into your disfigured patterns, strangled my desire, capsized my

Body, embracing you with volatile gestures and outcries. The unbrushed,

Bruised carpet where I would tremor and forget, forever. You thought you

Had unburdened me, you loved the sliding suffocation, the head shot, my

Name resurfacing in endless eulogies, crippled, kissed, abandoned.


“Six-winged Seraph (Azrael)” by Mikhail Vrubel (1856-1910)


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