arensic dipped in cherry wine
thrills with a trace of honey to
smoothe the throat
that burns as the the tongue
lashes riptide of bitterness
and envy.
luxurious fragrance—two drops
on each wrist to hide the
underlying odor of poison.
belladonna braided in a whitening
bouquet of unrequited love that
she leaves on the doorsteps of
the bride of him who envy desires
for jealousy putrefies anything
in her once holy soul.
another wonder is aphrodite
savors toying with ribbons
of love and weaving them
with eachother
the silks underneath her
skin are the softness of
the hair, she starves to run
her hand through the
moonshine dripping,
through the open window
is the moribund light
she lacks within.
darling elladora,
she carved the sins with
poisonous darts in the
walls around her heart,
begging for them to
crumble and release the
trendier nymph that
shelters in the darkness.
he desires something pure
but her experienced lips
mutter profanity,
and her perfume is that
which arouses rather
than lulls a soul like his.
his wings cover the east
and west as he dashes
through rays of faithless
apollos,
and only when the wax
melts and scars her
cheeks,
does icarus realize the
sun was never his
salvation.
he plummets with the
unanswered love,
and she extends palms
covered in poison ivy
then never catch him.
the deadly sin of envy
has viridesrcent roots
in her childhood that
smother her courage,
and even when the styx
runs across her cheeks
and mouth sepals part to
plead for redemption.
fate put a nouse around
her neck and tightens it
until her skin turns a
shaded scarlet.
jealousy is nothing but a
flawed desire.
no god has ever had
sympathy for the seven,
and so she crawls through
the earth until pretichor is
a tear—induced perfume
and dips her head low to
another diety,
her only hope at happiness
stands before her and all
she must do is answer a
riddle.
