meeting a Goddess, sunshine, envying its divinity & wings

stripping each white feather, dyeing them all in her blood

sewing souls into mine, stealing her golden halo

it will never fly again— riding only in my hand

my fallen angel: a bruised flower

craving total transformation, identity a disposed wrapper. becoming a vessel for want, glass poured into, overfilled.

you haven’t been here lately. something in our combining always begins this reaction: photochemical excited state

learning how to spark again — days ago: gel, pumps, bulbs, rattling pill bottles and nerves, black gloves, gold foil, silicone.

it’s warmed up enough already. don’t ask or guess — just know. take a part you claim as yours, shape it to your pleasure. use.

time stutters; the gears grind forward under prying pressure. repairing hidden mechanisms, counting every beat yourself.

disappearing deconstruction: ripped apart by heat and light, shredded into a thousand tiny pieces of steel. shrapnel blast.

there is stillness in oblivion, peace made in the darkness. clenched fists, soaked linen. i swear. i won’t move. i can’t.

meeting a Goddess, sunshine, envying its divinity & wings

stripping each white feather, dyeing them all in her blood

sewing souls into mine, stealing her golden halo

it will never fly again— riding only in my hand

my fallen angel: a bruised flower