Sunday-Morning Style


I lick your lacerations

spit

your tears onto the wound
salty sting

whimper some more

fuck you raw
then suck the flesh off your bones as you watch
delicious

belladonna dreams of freedom
are all you have left

you won't see daybreak
you'll be too far gone
and all that you'll want is sweet release

silent like death
louder than your petty life

daybreak comes
I spend the morning reading the funnies.