Grace on the neck
Marbled in taste
Rages soft lips
Dripping in blood
Down to my hips
Quiet altruism
In the peak of delusion
Lurid mores
In the apparition of self
Its happening all around
They say my hair is black
But it's always been dark brown
It's the same reconvening rot
Of what is not
Face of devotions
Desire in motion
Senseless abhorrence
To portions of me
Glance to the self In lust of want
Assuredness of this
My love will haunt
It taunts,
Your creation
It’s happening all around
They say my hair is black
But it's always been dark brown
It’s the same reconvening rot
Of what is not
However your find
Your absence of mind
My loves cessation
Is not of reparation