testing the mother tongue

Fiend


That somber expression you wear
Beams my pupils,
Solely lust
Seems to reveal

Entagling my arms
Against my thorax,
A long lived thirst
That ordained my craving.
And whatever last fragment
Of ingenuity I conceal
Turns to grey white dust
As the flickering
And swept ashes
Of your vice

And as you
Approach near and abruptly
Rapture my mouth, my flesh

I finally burst
And consent
To bear the price

Of thine hex.

22-03-05 M.S.