You are too winter and I am rising.Lukewarm will not do,I bid adieu to our I do.You are a splinter I keep sanitizing.Snowstorms will not do,in this field of mildew.I rid this flu,It’s all I can do.
A Butterfly’s Compass
A Compass paces in a chameleon depth,deep in a struggling cocoon,where its North is mercurial,and its fixation evolving in each flash.Reborn in each coordinate,it lacks a magnetic field. The needle twists and heaves,astray by its own stunted growth. The Compass is yet lost, curious,Why so gloomy, Butterfly? Wasn’t this cocoon your obsession? The metamorphosis not […]
The Invitation
The spacious womb of enticementmilks a wide-eyed vessel,to creep into your veinslike a demon habitual to its possession. Floating through the bloodstream,salivating the summonses,to feed off the venom of temptation. Captivated in a moment,instigation begins again.
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