a pair of cracked snowflakes bleed behind a veil of crimson butterflies her face is a heaven littered with dead angels I bathed in their blood slept upon their severed wings imagining a place called innocence I see flashes of pale skin writhing in bruised ecstasy I am the immortal disciple of a dying god each time she forgives me it becomes easier her smile has gone and in the bedroom there is only the hollow scraping of skeletal lovers dreaming of skin