Mordant Wind

the tangible fabric of your magnificence truly fictitious like your tender clasp rusting shut revisited on dark terrain the silver underneath the moon like a sardonic undercurrent seeking out your frigid heart looking down from the crypt on your past transgressive thrills crawling on charnel ground the beckoning quarry of your stone plight sliding rancid down the valley from the ravishing heights so lavishly adorned by soaring graves the vulture murmuration observing. eyes, like flashes in the dark looking down on your crypt on the gleaming charnel ground mordant wind! how your lips peek back from your teeth towering guilt and fear up the mordant wind