Torn between inane justifications of bitter tongues.
Swept away with the verbal bile that secretes
in the spaces between your rotting teeth...
...those lips,
sour lemons that once pressed against mine.
The eloquence that bleeds from your gums,
nothing more than the foul aftertaste of yesterday.

Cracked-bone fingertips stumble over barren lands
Rattled ribs dare splinter into nothing more than whispers
as your mouldy heart pumps spores from your chest...
...those breasts,
rotten fruit that is already bruised beneath his grasp.
The lust that leaked from your tar filled lungs
but a hacked cough that stained my tongue a desecrated black.

Sharp thunder cracks through the night
Jagged hips grate heavily against a worn pelvis
rocking in an ocean of still stagnant water...
...that muscle,
he dares not liken to a once bountiful trawlers catch.
The canine desires that drool from between your fishnet legs
were a sickening stain on the ashes that were my sheets.

Skeleton rattles as hips sway in pendulum.
A breeze howls and shares a disgusted look
as it rushes through the cavernous space between your legs...
...those ankles,
more used to being at your shoulders than your own hair.
The subtle scent of lust, a wake of unwanted perfume,
the back of your head has never looked so good.