Comparing the trenches in each other's skin
They see caligraphy and weep within
Stories tattered bits of hearts that sin
Would rather someone purer spin
Yet through the muck and past latrine
Dipped in oil, feathers or whole wings
Still resemble the love machine
That spilled its blood like gasoline

I awoke midsentence to death
thinking i was carried away i was
directionless, without context
every bleeding door is as ornate
glistening with light refracted through  chandelier glass
Desire is plodding hooves flaming a trail to burn down the barn
through the window of which fragments will augur best the birth of delicate demons
bowlegged and hoary covered in promises
the stained glass depicting how horribly humans hesitate
somewhere floating in the sky is harder than diamonds and singing that praises
singing prays his vengeance sighs
as the attic empties of all its coward snipers coiled vipers and shitty diapers
that just want to go home but what even is that