Fille Fatale
Cristina de Guzman
30 Jan, 2013 10:21 AMAs twilight creeps into thy eyes, smokes rejoice the nearest death and trap each hope to vindicate the wrath that swells upon thy wounds. Naked ruins are thrown away into the realm that breathes no air, where filthy earth smells like blood and rain that falls tastes like rum. Thy fragile bones shall crack and crash and so the flesh soon shall rot. Thy blood shall spill and seek the earth where myths and mem’ries shall forever thrive. Virgin vow in thy salvaged womb shall seek its birth in pray’rs at dawn to bribe the sun and eternal fog to kiss the day with sweet revenge. The wrath that escapes thy graying skin still walks on the sordid ground and waits upon the celestial rain to wither and wash thy innocence. Down the forlorn sunless lab’rinth, where songs and scribbles paved the way to guide thy unrequited tears to drown the poet that killed her thrice.
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