to him , i will become : a flickering candle . ( i am your true paracosm -- a nod to something that exists in your reality , oenomel honey sickly sweet and dripping down to cover your eyne like wool — remake you , rebirth you , so you only see , me . i could make you speak blasphemy that bristles on your teeth and bursts like fruit skin down your chin . i could make you do horrible things , but i am a mercy : my affections perceived are undeniably cloy . ) become his fool — soft and pliant , let your puppet strings dance on slender fingers . there is the sillage of wisteria / past your fire , darting in and out , panoply nothingness and intangible to the debelling of him — i , conquer / i , rimose you . aubade / nocturne , everything in between , although his sanction gives to him sublimity -- as if to prove his point , ebon pinion in the form of sericate locks fold in front of collar bone . mien niveous bends to bring forth a further pucker , painted lips bowing and ambrosia ebbing , a vernal gem springing forth in asphodel pleasure and , a dream - like state . looks up , eyne a touch wider , an earnest stare worthy of bacchanal horrent … but as he tries to pry open the pith of you / lap up gentle love like ketamine / dabble with roses of bloody gypsum , there is nothing there to steal . ( my rivers have yet to lave you . )
❛ are you two married ? ❜ he sees her then , the woman you love in truest passions — she births in this man an innermost lustral glow … and at that , his true self scoffs . no man has let the life of my scarlet bunches fall from grace , resisted the subsumption of golden pule . ( i am the ingénue . adore me . submit to me . ) @vndicate from 🌹