Saint Shivers
Taken Back.
Hypocrisy Flickering atop cave wall paintings.
Delirium-inducing, mania translucence.
Shadows crowd. Head on a swivel.
The more I move the more I stir the opposition of you.
so quickly, so covert.
I feel guilty for deeds undone.
Draped in shameful cloaks of crimson.
Smooth the wrinkles of time on our furrowed brows. The double helix, Achilles, heal. Spiral right, or left for dead.
Murder.
Crows circle scintillating murder, she wrote.
I can pluck out my own eyes and cross my own lies.
Lashes flutter, butterfly kisses to my scar tissue hindsight
barb wire crown tight. sacraments really used to mean something, right?
L.R. Bennett