Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
I love the needle poke, the red pop/ and when an arc of red drops,/ quivering and shaped like wings/ beg me to lick them off,/ quickly savoring your shoulder/ newly marked with a nearly invisible/ but indelible butterfly
Gods of Water and Air
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I love the needle poke, the red pop/ and when an arc of red drops,/ quivering and shaped like wings/ beg me to lick them off,/ quickly savoring your shoulder/ newly marked with a nearly invisible/ but indelible butterfly
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