In the dimmest light she coaxes you close
With spiral eyes, wormholes that made you froze
Her hand slides up your wrist, it closes over yours
With watery Neptunian eyes and a heart of Mars.
The monarch crumples, its summer wings fold
Pastel syrup mingles between your fingers and hers,
A step closer she takes, and once more the innocent stirs,
Warm is the blood of the living, and she is awfully cold.
Lanterns flicker above the lamb and its shepherd,
She fondles your ears and whispers tangles of letters,
Words only this orange evening will be left to witness
When she adorns your sweet corpse with flowers.
A jaw of metal encapsulates your fleshy heart,
And her narrow hand guides your fingers to your lips,
Its filmy body crunching between your hanging teeth
Victim to a murder of passion, lamb to the slaughter.
In the darkness she breaks your horns,
With a searing tongue, hands that leave burns
The only immortals: a pale moon and dusk sun,
A false god and a sacrifice, and light there is none.