Blood drips from glossy lips,
thunder strikes across dark skies,
power swells in a form that can’t contain it,
and I am free in my dreams.
Ave libertas.
I sleep in the minds of maniacs,
born under a waning crescent,
but waxing wildly as the moon is reborn.
I became a monster,
with beautiful eyes,
because the world showed me it’s claws,
and I had to be stronger.
Ave vindictae.
Consecrated Queen,
kept alone in a castle,
built from shards of a broken heart.
Low mass with my lover at midnight,
wanton, wayward worship,
calling prayers into each other’s mouths,
sweet, seductive Santeria,
I drink his wine,
clear and cleansing,
glowing under his warm fingertips.
Ave delicium.
I am awake for the first time,
God’s touch,
icy around my bruised neck,
Satan’s fingerprints,
boiling on my blushing cheeks.
