Crack through the bone
Use the marrow to feed.
Kiss the lips sewn
To embrace rumor's seed.
Bitter tastes on tongues
Never fail to astonish
The most engorged lungs,
Those too probed to admonish.
And still, silhouettes lie.
Whether it be in bed or tomb,
Their frail hearts listen sly
To the incessant, wily womb.
'Ere 'round and 'round, 'round it goes,
A feather of a whisper enthralled.
Soon all friends had befitted foes;
A love forever vile, forever mauled.
'Twas a fabrication none had forestalled,
A tale of abhorrence none had appalled.