What had killed, thee?
The purest form, of piety?
Or the scarred tree, that sits, evenly;
On the fragrant skin, between thy legs,
Death and love, are opposites,
And I melted, the arctic.
Upon kissing, thy lips,
I had conquered, thy heart.
Upon annexing, your form,
I had melted, the arctic.
The North, before the South,
And marriage, was made before,
And made, before the South.
Intoxication, to your sweetness:
Here is me,
The utmost, in heraldry
You had, a stone-cold heart,
Desires festered, in the dark.
I fell, upon thee,
To pull you, into me.
And I bit, with my teeth,
To scrape truth, so that it would match,
The desires, from me,
Because, you are filled, with beauty.
And between, thy white legs
Is the Heaven, that my claws, have grown, to yearn,
A yearning, too vivid, for my imagining.
I spill liquid, from that place,
And make thy mouth, a torn oval.
A face I see, speaking pleasures, too many
To cross, between skin, firm from torture.
South, after North,
Marriage, before loss.
Failure and sin, branded, on the cross.
A face, and a form, duality grown, to show
Your heaviness, to what you owe,
I have found the growth, to be of Man,
A son, a King; a daughter, a Queen.
Have I become God, with fingers inside, the pinkish flesh?
When I reach, thy heart, will I pull strings, to make it start?