by pipping stars |
Categories:
art,
palm me them poems
oh ye noble fright face of love
crawl from me on spidering digits
webbing for butterflies sighs regret
listen for the howling horror moons
consume your mind though vessels
supping doom from reluctant paths
greet from me these things of desire
lessons for the less wicked no lesson
at
all
crawl from me
oh serpent wings
feather me bleeding
that my slither becomes
worn
?