Her notes─ heavy with yearning,
the language of dark children,
bleeds through her lips.
Her vandal song cracks, pierces my heart, furious. In the sweaty lounge,
her song rouses his flame.
He surges against my bones,
brewing a space to breathe.
He claps his hands inside me.
Relentless. Unstitching
my life, tying me into knots.
He leans his forehead against
the devil’s gate, reeking of mud and lust.
A Ferrari for all my sins.
He bathes in the sweat of my fever,
jabs the raw in my wounds.
The blood, the black, the moon,
carves out a bedroom of light inside me.
Time yearns on, bending my back and
draining the pink from my cheeks. Soon
I will turn into nothing but a diamond
buried deep below the grass.
I search for death in the
garden, in a graveyard of roses.
How beautiful they are
surrendering to the earth.
Their thorns yield to the emptiness,
petals open to the stars.
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