come all, gather round, listen
to my testimony. this is the test
of my faith, morality descending,
facades all crumbling, the truth
i've hoarded leaving me in a rush:
that it never becomes me to believe
that i want love, not lust.
aftershocks in the declaration passing wave-
like over slack-jawed supplicants, blind
faith shattered in face of ferocity
for such is my veracity, released
from shackles; deliverance untempered, flooding
this frazzled scene.
I REJECT IT! i yell, like thunder quaking
bringing forth avalanches, catastrophes,
burying every dissenter, burying me.
I REJECT LONGING
AND LOVE'S FUTILITY
PINING IS FOR THE WEAK
AND NEW-MADE IN IMAGE OF LILITH
I AM MARTYR OF SIN ULTIME -
LUST, MISTRESS MAGICIAN,
CARVE YOUR SIGILS
ALL OVER MY SKIN
none of this should be revelatory;
i've long pondered how love could exist
when cracks of dawn have never brought me peace
and safety sought found only in consummate bodies.
no, do not accuse me;
naysayer i do not be;
truth illumines, glistens pearly
like desire gates opening, to heaven ascending
only in the arms of extant
temporary conjugation -
no connections spurned, no souls to wreak
havoc upon as malice leaks
stains sanguine a good girl faith as i lift
my skirt.
now read the signs, strewn
around the barbed tips of my barricades,
epitaphed screams, tornado warnings:
ABANDONED
HAUNTED
NO TRESPASSING
any who dare cross
the line with treacherous toetip
i'd persecute relentlessly
till the end so bitter never sweet
as i dissolve in acid.
test me not; let my cries
be cautionary -
i've been razed
a time too many
to be so foolish as to harbor
naught but seething contempt
disdain, scorn in mon coeur
infirme
for love's feckless game.
i'd paint the sky a riot
violent blooms of red
and ride my chariot of flames
over every distraught grave.
I WANT LOVE, NOT LUST
i roar in my bereavement,
wild child of forlornness;
hear my tithe, this lie
from my lips froths;
eyes are storms, tender limbs sacrificial
giving up to mercy, no longer sovereign;
belladonna blossoms, cherries effloresce
on razor tongue;
cut off my ears, the better to not hear
every blanched word
no white flowers and love letters
butterflies with wings broken discarded
caught up in tes yeux
marrons, weaponed moons of a traitor.
vows i spit forth
venom in deceit
mithridate and harden, till
i'm newly-minted
in essence of transgression
desire incarnate;
now this be eden
where i am safe.
i'm saved.
