.
Their funeral mockery oozed
as enchanted lucidity embraced its ebony transparency.–
Where mossy amber tea-cups crack with time beneath an apricot rain.
Smooth, smoky-silver wildflower milk cradled in her throat,
as a gold-leafed lily withered and contorted
like the devil’s amniotic yolk.–
Mystical scented candles changed the elders flesh salinity.
Their arterial flutters slit through with subtle haunting clarity:
Rustling thorns pricked her thighs,
even her theatrical breasts still tell me that it’s cold.
.
