In her porcelain eyes
I see the movement of decline.
Her lily flesh flushes
With the colors of desire.
Sick unto death with love,
The muse floods into me.
And now I bury my darkness inside of her.
She is dead in the water,
I hold her hand as I watch her drown.
Her sign's of life will diminish to nothing.
I watch her eyes as she's sinking down.
She is dead in the water,
Dead weight like a lead anchor.
Chained to nothing but the
Memories that are holding her down.
The silent, perpetual night spills
Out like a fecal fountain of youth.
And we kiss where the water comes to greet her,
And takes her thereafter.
Tangled like bodies impassioned.
The reeds are a halo about her head.
Her mouth is an open grave
Follow the rushlights to where I must bury my dead.
In the gray of her eyes
I see our brutal fall from grace.
Her lips, as blood, receive
The sacrament of suffocation.
Sick unto death with love,
The muse floods into me.
And now I bury my darkness with her.
Asphyxia, my beloved.
The silent, perpetual night spills
Out like a fecal fountain of youth.
And we kiss where the water comes to greet her,
And takes her thereafter.
And now the silent, perpetual night
Spills out like a fecal fountain of youth.
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