They mouth love's language. Gnash
The thirteen teeth
Your lean jaws grin with. Lash
Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.
Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung,
As sour as cat's breath,
Harsh of tongue.
This grey that stares
Lies not, stark skin and bone.
Leave greasy lips their kissing. None
Will choose her what you see to mouth upon.
Dire hunger holds his hour.
Pluck forth your heart, saltblood, a fruit of tears.
Pluck and devour!
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CTO and Founder of Seamonster Ltd. Often found knee deep in code, sometimes cranking oil paint around a canvas, occasionally changing nappies and very occasionally wearing matching socks.
Lay there in your petrified state, your expression taunts me, I know you love to hate, I may give you a small piece, your poor frustration, I may assist you with your release, You'll enjoy my...
Perfect shape and flawless face, With emerald veins and gliding grace, Unbroken skin, unscathed, within, Awake, alert, yet pure and thin.
Eyes lids & pins, Piercing through the skin. A thread sewn. Stitch by stitch. Sewing the seams. Eyes begin to close. The tables switch. Masquerading an horrifically scenic show.
-"Hello grandma how are you today. I hope you'll have a good stay." -"My dear, I am so tiresome. But look at you. You are so handsome. I say without a snare.
Stuff me up like a worm digging its blinded mind to the center Of a rotten world in glass mirrors and cerise markings. Push maggots threw my veins when you let go of the heat.
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