Her morality was jeopardized by her oral.
Little did she know this would be the last time that she went bobbing for apples.
The last time she’d show her worth by sucking the ozone layer from someone else’s skull.
The tip of the iceberg was kept in her jeans made of denim.
The ash left from the volcano that destroyed her world long ago colored her hair in a different shade of guilt.
With nothing left but her last breath
She clutched her pearls closely to her chest.
Attempting to breathe through her nose while her throat was constricted.
This is what death feels like when you’ve died a hundred times.
Like replacing your sweat with iodine and your tears with liquid magnesium.
Fatal elements dancing around her tongue as her hair is pulled by the dark matter that is unseen.
The cosmos dance in her eyes as she looked up at the monument in front of her.
Chiseled out of stardust and dispersing atoms at the speed of the light.
I grab a towel from the bed and clean her face.
We kiss until our body temperature cools and then we talk about what we’re having for dinner.