The Sock-Monkey As Alone

  The man has a serious darkness.  repetitions are not music to him. her flesh revealed in holy starkness to indulge in her sins on his whims. Tied up and gagged, there is no beauty. soft stickiness clings to finger tips. no way forward except through removing and refilling her lips or her hips. burning away the deadwood of the soul he is not a wild fire but a flame.  a living sacrifice makes him whole a game or not: he is entertained.  ashes to ashes, dust to dust. do the fly and spider... share a trust?

Like desire descending as a Dove. Hung around your Crown of Hearts. it's in a breath that will take a life to wash away the tears and the stars.    Yet the stars will sing for me to heal.  A devotion for the fire and the scars. I'm inept without a guide to feel a prayer, a sin, works without a start.    the apologetics leave me confused I am your slave and I am afraid. So the serpents venom has been removed. I repent with your blood but what remains?   knowing that my life is yours to take. your peace will cleanse me from my mistakes.