morendo
I lose myself willingly
in the depths of your gaze,
where light wanes like a bitter moon,
and something black flickers back—
—you are a palpitation I should fear,
dismally drawn to my knowing.
Your dark brown eyes a crag,
carved between skin, devastation,
and abysmal Horror—half-wild,
half-claimed—hungers between us—
—morendo!—
too sibilant to name.
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2025
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