Ardour
For this crown, dark
Avidity
In the balm of this chamber, blush
Devotion
In brevity
To this season, long
In the slight of an a.m. downpour, gentility
How the scene ached to express itself to me
Presented by significance
Dressed as
Violent elegance
Intoned as
Brutal magnificence
Rousing sentience
Waking dormant tenderness
Bidding attention
To where I lay
To where I’d been laying
For hours
For days
In
Your meat
Your marrow
Your pith
In
Your depravity
I’ve merry walked
In
Your brine
I’ve sticky rolled
In your proclivity
I’ve risky peeped
And quietly
We march the death meadow
So as not to stir the bitter wind
Or provoke the nightshade starved
Who desire a kill
Wings wide
Flut-tut overhead
And know its menace
Hold breath
And hold for the pop and glitter
And purr with verve
Oh, my
Thy drugs are quick
Written by Nia Di Gennaro