apostasy
by Tony Li
Hollow ring these incantations of silent guilt surfeit. In sunken ashen cloisters sleep lovers inveterate. Away from shame’s cowering gaze their sultry sockets turned. No earthly law could tame their kiss, they laughed while Eden burned. No gilded pacts they deign to sign, nor passé scriptures parse— Yet yearn with fallen firebrands to swing with bleeding stars.
photo | Lauren Fischer
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