FIRST ACT : PIECE ONE
beast of the night cut from stained marble ( boy breathing genocide ) with the devil's snare coiling— purple blotches blooming like starless-sky ink strewn across paper — round the curve of his neck.
he blinked / vermillion eyes cradling modern day tragedies of lonely souls drunk on moonshine, searching for the will to fight / in the glow of ruby lights.
the were everywhere: flickering above ramen stalls, outlining the liquor store signs & clubs that leaked the stench of sweat and sex; in the alleyways where the weeping girls of mascara smudged cheeks lingered, glinted off the curve of brass knuckles and barrels of smoking guns.
he used to drift into darkened streets , re: reaper in a search for souls , where cigarette smoke wafted between their lips like a kiss.
cigarette burns engraved onto their collarbones and he whispered a question against the boy's cheek / taking in the artificial midnight air ,
TELL ME, IS THERE BEAUTY IN DEATH?
