Darling Death

…And her cold caress is a welcome coil,

After a life’s labor wasted in toil.

Against my neck, presses her nightshade lips.

I am thrusted deeper still by her kiss.

​

Her cadaverous bosom seals to my back’s arch.

Her pale dress is ill fitting, and her eyes are starch.

Her veil is stained with blood from ten billion hearts past.

I am not her first, but she will be my last.

​

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/yclz4v/xenophile/itn0qgs/?context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/ycedtb/the_broken_circus/itltzrt/?context=3