the darkness grabs hold of my throat
with piercing nails it whispers
am I man, free and full of life
or beast, chained to the imaginary
foul stench sinks into my nostrils
I am not afraid, however
I know this voice, this beauty
has cleavage so deep and treacherous
it’s as if it was made for me to fall into
the flowers turn black at her feet
her hair twirls into the thunderstorms we fear
one touch, so incendiary, we explode
but she cannot suffocate me
when there is no breath left to give
not a centimeter of flesh
that hasn’t been groped already
her name may be Death
but her offspring are Possibilities
eventually one will take hold within me
to guide me towards direction and purpose
