His desert

He spits; hatred and darkness and blood.

turning and leaping in a hellish dance

of sneers and renewed curses,

the thunderous desert forgets to grow out

of the night.

.

Black lips and green cheeks, buried heads.

She forgets

how touching softness felt

between cacti and winds

her eyes bleed

skin peels and lips fall..

she lies still for a while

but here he comes

turning and twisting, spitting again

she covers her head with a hand

but the desert forgets its moons

and night grows

deeper

colder

eternal.

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Death

Goosebumps and shivers and dry lips, my wind – Goodbye.

Sheltered by mountains of ice, I die. I die. I die.

Oh dear old darkness!

.

He whispers in the dead of night and I cling to a dead breath

but it’s gone

Stupid eyes can’t hold dying shadows anymore.

.

Sink your teeth in hot flesh heavy until his fire dies

and the night unwraps it deadly grasp of your dying eyes.

.

.

.

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