Savior
Carotid crushed
Beneath the hands of a savior
A reverie
Of sweet plum bruises and handprints
Such cigarette lungs, he has
And I watch as he turns black
As he spills them on his robe
As the smoke fills the air
And as he leaves me alone
Craving cranberry fingerprints
Like a watercolor of flesh and hatred
He dances his hands around
Across the neck
I, being his guitar,
am being played like Romanza
This doesn’t feel like Spain
But how can the city of angels
Birth such a beautiful demon from its womb?
Adonis doesn’t love me, he loves the glory
He loves the snow, and loves the way
That he breathes it in
I should despise it
But I love this bitter weather
I am no better
All my vices tonight stem
From the wicked water
I shouldn’t know his name
I shouldn’t hear his voice,
Reminiscent of a melody
Like the sounds
Of the ivories that he strikes for me
The ivory white of my flesh, I wish
Intoxicated and intoxicating
Denouncing his aptitude
With a devious grin
And shark eyes, soulless voids
He looks up, and I hate him
I feel the sting of the ocean
Salt water in my eyes
The drought is over
But baby, “un jour see’est toi
Qui pleureras”
And he’s laughing.
Laughing at my pain
Laughing at the x and y axis
and how it corresponds
to his exponential hatred
I know I’m not evil like this
But idle hands just can’t help but to play along
Mind like a fascist, body built like abuse
I can taste the denouement.
He says, “These violent delights
Have violent ends”
Yet, still I know,
That death at the hands of sadism
Has never looked so beautiful.