The paradigm of bliss
Hot whispers on the wind
In swan-like curves I graced salvation

Amidst both worlds I promised her
Eternity would be beautiful

Yet on the cusp
I still not truly dared

Her eyes plied hard a burning will
Beseeching on her knees
Like Salome unfulfilled

I hung between two thieves
Guilt and spilt desire
Until that flame became a fire
All consuming

With strength renewed
I turned again
Death all lit up by my perfect victim

And she grew
The scourge of men
They hissed her name in perverted dictum

Now we walk, our cavorting auras
Feed the lengthy shadows with their sullen lullabies
The fragrant night air filled with haunting chorus
Clouds draw cobweb threads across a bloodied moonrise

Illicitus
Illicit
Us