I want fate to touch My crowning breath, To blister in its fever As it traces crimson Around naked necks. It’s a vibrant sensation, Echoing the shade of dusk Throughout my bones Until they are reduced To Georgia Red Clay.
Tag: part
If this was nothing more than destiny, that would be great. Then I wouldn’t have to blame it all on me.. (part 1 of 5)
I want destiny to taste The last sliver of air Netted in my lungs. It’s Nitrogen imbued With a wink of vinegar, And a gasp of sour carbon, Made all the more potent By a throat varnished In wood turpentine.