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殉情
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to die for love is the highest honor.
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in the righteous hours of death, i plucked lavender mountain lillies for my scorned lover. a tasteless delight surrounded your fingertips like saccharine in the land of milk and honey. champagne dripped from your sinful meatus like rain from the heavens on my tongue that has been aching for a droplet of your glory in a language so hauntingly antique, forgotten by all of civil mankind. alike a sketch artist sent from the olympian gods, i drew sweet cherry blossoms, a sandstorm of maroon lipstick marks and whiskey kisses on your sinful thighs. skin on skin, our souls blended perfectly underneath the twilight arch. for no force from the heavens and the earth combined could hold us down as my name rhythmically graced the edges of your parched lips and your whispers imprinted in mine.
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