Excavate the ruins of her jaw. A muted dialogue of sores as she once sang so beautifully. Bring me fingernails. Bring me illusion. Bring me a plague to give to my lover. They won’t be missed. No, they’ll never be missed. A concave oral, from the mouth of her preacher man. They said I was a prisoner, an ancient parable from alcoholic tides. The witches, all of whom were witches. All limbs removed. All torsos eaten whole. A trilogy of decadence divided by lonely reflections. I see only shadows. I feel only tremors. Some kind of ageless howl, the truth of which will always be lost to me. Rise her up from the stench of chloroform tongues. Bleeding secrets until they run you dry, she divides herself in silence. From swollen thighs came suffocation. I was born into her, my death a lyrical cry. I was sucked in then castrated. Born dead, the waves of pain melted mirrors before scarring my hands with unknown symbols. Sometimes martyrdom, sometimes bullet wounds leading to facial contortions. The magician’s fingers plucking needles like feathers, flesh-covered bone dissolving at will. They gave me an exorcism, my madness blowing me from day to dream. A hand from the sky, or the remnants of unresolved death. She came from myriad times. Fragments of her mother, and my throat a lizards necklace. As the pendant was unearthed, we tore through the portal, our sex unified. From the suburbs to hanging gardens, the skeletonized remains of my faith displayed for all to see. Like porno, featureless and erotic. Inhuman and toxic. The lascivious bite marks upon her breast; the key to her heart entombed. Neurotics. Narcotics. The government of my hands, like boredom sunk within her retinas. From parchments of hieroglyphics to the touch of her scapular. Drowned in subterfuge. The ecstasy of our ritual. The way we merge come full dark, our evil systematic.