this is about
crawling through the
desolate, yawning corridors
draped in gold dust &
honeyed sunrise
and
tracing the holy mother
in lapis lazuli ink onto
the gauze of a
spider's web
and
devouring the virulence
of foolish youth;
its ardour fleets past
your scorching tongue
and
lying idle on
the lilac duvet,
painlessly awash
in dolorous alleluia
[...]
awaiting the taker's deliverance.
YOU ARE READING
mercury
Teen Fictionin which the death of an overmedicated, latch-key daughter with a head full of insulin and dirty jokes is ruled a suicide - but aren't the police almost always wrong? ©ma-cherie. all rights reserved, 2019
