Pitiful
Drucilla in her tattered silk
The
paste has yet to dry
As
crimson blushes tongue
You’re
voluptuous
Sensual
lines curve
Shadow
tightly against
Plasterboard
Catharsis
flecks dust
From
the skylines trace
Denouement’s
never dreamt
Of
visions so free in their finality
So
fragile, senses blur first
So
eager, to be plucked
Out
of a lineup
Or
a dumpster…
…If this corpse has been,
forever
stained by
The
sin in you.