Moistening the dark
A heart dripping with break
Bare skeletal fingers grasping
As blood leaks passed the skin
Holding on to its nothingness

And it touched upon why
As it picked asphodel bouquets
Sun rippling decaying hair
There’s so much it couldn’t do
To love the emptiness it found
To enjoy the sorrows of tea time
Mellowing a sharp discordant sigh

Melancholy sought melody
For the world of a breaking heart
And devouring blood-orchids was
Only the first step in bleeding
A smooth asphodel wine
Pumping terminal disease in every
Vein and every vanity and every
Stroke that fell broke insanity

Until the stars collapsed on heaving
Breast and beast and best words
Stumbled from heart-ached lips
Touching the skies begging for a
Kiss to bring around that sultry wish
Of wine…

Asphodel and broken hearted wine…
Required but a bouquet of asphodels
A bleeding heart… and nothingness…

And nothing would please a heart
More, than to sip a soul, a sole taste
Of why it spent aeons picking asphodel…

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