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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Interplay of Beauty in Darkness I wrap myself in frozen-black, a back without boundaries-deepened, my thoughts the viscous-tangled lianas in a forgotten earth, an amnesia-desirer that loses all its forms in absence, and autumn leaves spill their waves in consternating tumult. The drunken wind weaves itself in vortices of ephemeral purple, I rise weightless on wings of whiskey-butterfly sick, my pain an ashtray where I pray to gods that don't exist yet, the equinox has tilted oblique toward worlds in grave imbalance. My body of wilted fog shows itself in shattered smoke mirror, do I dream in the darkness stupor-sweetness or is reality the dream? my clouds are false redemptions that bleed at dawn through cracks, seraphim and serpents dance in the phantoms that disturb my abyss. I keep silences like a sphinx of stone-speaking without voice, my intuition is imperceptible laughter, through a jungle it flees smooth, a widow-shackled in the curse of bitter-black drinks, but the soul with bruised eyes blooms in the lock of torment. Dawn scatters its stones of liquid-gold over the retina, like nightmare-witches that rattle the empty bottles, in semi-darkness my mirror writes prophecies with trembling fingers, the pulse brings me closer to the altar of the sun with fatal flames. I burn on the stone of sacrifice for my beloved of burned-moon, in the chiaroscuro of existence where paradox is the only truth, the darkened-beauty wraps me in petals of stellar melancholy, and I turn into ash that dances on edges of non-being-hesitant.
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