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