Satyr

The crescent dye eclipses barren tables. Starve to feed me. I'm guilty! (and I'd fly but you'd miss me).

Won't believe in patterns tempting visions. Copper veins excite your shock and you forget the quaking rock.

Satellites to moons of envy drift through peeking stutters, who allude to frosting cherries - stinted springs.

All trying motives forge a head. They sift through dying fingers left to write the diary of a quiet child.

My tigress scales padded cells to greet crowns of snow. She makes tea of goblins and drinks my nightmares.

Density of heart implodes the chest of a bruised dysphemism - fossilized talons, scars immemorial.

"Amicable preterition denied us amenity," my ego dissuades - "Where is my cake?! Try the bosom!"

Treat you well.. falling through transparency.. Treat you well.. fry the ministry, destruction programmed with empathy.. my angel, my lecher?