I stick to lips like honey and burn throats like liqueur.
My fingers tangle black hair,
Getting caught in my silver rings,
While I whisper malice into listening ears.
I record the heat of my voice,
Dress men in the white of a blank canvas,
And call them Gabriel.
As I wear black silhouettes,
Imitating Lilith.
The depths of onyx eyes were just reflections of mine,
Looking into them for vanity,
Realizing that I never learned any names
And spoke my own desires as they all fell short of love.
Men only feel hot on a winter morning,
When the absence of clothing melts my icicle veins.
This queen has a new kingdom,
But a needle still addresses me.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Muses to Kalliope
PoetryThis poetry collection explores regret, isolation, philosophy, with a sprinkling of guilt. Historical references are encouraged! If you're just going through the motions of life, whether it be blissful or difficult, these poems are great companions...
