A pair of cracked snowflakes bleed
Behind a veil of crimson butterflies
Her face is a heaven littered with dead angels
I bathed in their blood slept upon their severed wings
Imagining a place called innocence
I see flashes of pale skin writhing in bruised ecstasy
I am the immortal disciple of a dying God
Each time she forgives me it becomes easier
Her smile has gone and in the bedroom
There is only the hollow scraping of skeletal lovers dreaming of skin