i was never more beautiful.
basking in the salience of death,
consumed by the imminent
in the face of punctured darkness,
my eyes turned up.
my reflection stared back
beyond the mercurial fragility
of retrospection canvassed by glass-
wild, raw, alive
lewd, war[torn], a vile
balance of strange perfection.
composed of seraphim
Holy!
of truth,
Holy!
of beauty,
Holy!
improbable in any other form,
impossible to draw
a straight line with a compass.
No comments:
Post a Comment