A Paragraph
       
     
DSC_8065.jpg
       
     
DSC_7917.jpg
       
     
DSC_8069.jpg
       
     
A Sentence
       
     
A Word
       
     
DSC_8007.jpg
       
     
A Paragraph
       
     
A Paragraph

The haunting blood lamps highlight the surface of her burning skin. In the place of worship, the gore of her love bounces off her eyes in sincerity. The rays of her their infidelity strike her cheekbones, sharp and soft and all at once. She wears their betrayal around her wrists. She glows in their fear. The living room of their comfort become the attic of her nightmares. She moaned louder than the choir sang that Sunday. Elevated in her glory, lifted with their spirits. In her sanctuary, her plump position coated lips kiss the red that made love to my thighs. Her holy book. Her ritual. Her praise in the presence of my sanctified sin. These visions come from the eyes of a lamb, at the alter, silent and soft when slaughtered. Cold and hardened when whole. I kept looking, lost in the deepest red of her eyes, I was seeing me tell her I love her.

DSC_8065.jpg
       
     
DSC_7917.jpg
       
     
DSC_8069.jpg
       
     
A Sentence
       
     
A Sentence

Elevated in her glory, lifted with their spirits. In her sanctuary, her plump position coated lips kiss the red that made love to my thighs.

A Word
       
     
A Word

Elevated

DSC_8007.jpg