He sat back in an abandoned complex,

flirting with the evening,

touching her pretty flesh,

he’s so lovely, he is, puncturing fragile skin,

and summoning demons when he breathes.

I felt the world at the tip of his fingers,

as he brushed stardust across the room,

I fell down into his black hole curse,

as he pursed his lips and whispered in her ear.

He was the last of it,

He dripped down into my vision, staining the day with quick incisions on my body,
he wept for days and called me home, after he was done with her,
sold magic to my backwards daydream,
sold himself to the fury,
sold me to the crimson god on his body,
turned me inside out and wore like an autumn coat,
told me not to doubt, the ruling of the new world.
as flames became inferno love,
I knew it then,
this was the final omen.