a female sea

in twice to you once. i am but the red acrylic mandorla. beat in by the deepening scar. torn apart by the tightened tether. my love for you once wept, but now only soars. beyond breath, beyond water. the ocean is its depth and the universe is its limit. in twice to you once. with love. my life. you are.

another day, another night: Agnus Dei

dark clouds loom over her tender ribs. beaten in by the impending fear. where the soft plump flesh rests, so does that of his rusting spear. quietly sound, vulnerably there. that heart, delicate so, only beats louder as the cries become gasps for air.

blind faith crumbles as the sash falls from her eyes and reluctantly floats to the smoldering depths of his filthy despair.

the scars penetrate his brittle skin, deepening into the unforgiving layers of hell. the black tar moves slowly through his veins, choking off all that breathes; suffocating every threshold of her very embrace. trapped where the light has failed to reach, he sits alone. deep in the crevice of an empty void, a hollow cavity. tarnished, sick, and wet with grief, he sits in the place where his heart once beat.