I gnaw at bone as I wait, holding wasps above a candle, I do not hear machines whine of their rust outside,


Not yet,


Father does not exist without a sirens ribbon keeping scent attached,

I've not invited her in, the boy has no devil to hold at night,


Father brings him an angel, unrecognizable, hidden behind diamonds, a stench of fucking and expired cosmetics, undeniably an angel


Send him to his dreaming mother, he belongs dreaming as well, maybe then she could coddle the lonely one to sleep,


Father attaches string to another devil, no one sings to him, eyes on plastered wood until it opens and they stop their bleeding,


Until then,

He collects fireflies,

Counting stars
© cankered cupid