rose for blood

hygroscopic gods

hate the odour of my dreams

in the symphony of my bone marrow

your hypochondriac whispers

are bleeding dreams

on my red rose petals

i was the wizard of the winds

etching metallurgy in the land of my dreams

till your dark art became a vampire

at the auction of fermented fortunes

i fell a martyr

to the calligraphy of your eyes

your intricate delicacies

lured my rush of adrenaline

your beauty was my apocalypse

and then

the future was a mere excuse

to forget your past

in the labyrinth of lost faces

your feelings will be stained forever

with blood and memories

i wriggled out of your cobweb

with your smoky words:

“will you for once

stop being a lexicographic joker?”

in asphyxiation of emotions

if words are not your blood

this rigmarole was never meant for you!