deluge

lucifer's emotion

i have cultivated the surface of my heart
and this is what has grown unto it?
nothing i had ever desired or begged for
no lush vegetation, generously thriving
(i've only witnessed that in you)
"the germination of despair," i am told by him underneath
in a harsh voice, burnt orange and searing
a pure, holy presence writhes below my skin
but the opposing force always prevails
despair, hellishly ablaze
ascends my esophagus
tenderly entwines with my tongue, only to engulf it entirely
(how did you suppose i speak these words?)
i cannot forget the ache of such friction
i began to exhale malevolence
of which my breath reeks of
i'm sorry
lover, it lingers on you after fervent nights
until you are cleansed by the ichor of dawn
my favorite sight, your flesh immersed in early sunbeams

clasped hands
i pray for you
now,
pray for me