For Kenan
Ave Maria
Ave Maria
as he is pouring inside of me,
as I burn a flame for him within this cage,
nurturing the fire with bloody psalms.
He is carving scripture
wounds into our skin, petal soft.
Amorea mortuus sum.
Amorea mortuus sum.
I almost die as he splits himself, a raging holiness
tearing through my deathgown.
–
It is with a putrid heart that I dream
It is with a putrid heart that I dream
of the melting of heaven
sinking into black silky depths,
of succulent virginal fluids weeping from naked lips.
We are ache-ridden, bloodied –
struck by rosary pearls as the breath of God lingers
upon our tender throats.
A flushed hymen breaks softly
and I am sick again,
sore from penetration.
–
You are sick for cunt blood
You are sick for cunt blood and milk mouth / red for my Russian ballet / I am slipping bondage silk into our clotted wound bath, raging through the bloodmilk reaping and devil-clawing flesh
to cut the sickness from the root.
Your fist down my throat splits the overgrown wilted salvia, sallow chaplet / womb crown.
If your heart is sore, cradle the filth / from my harvested wound cocoon / inside your cum
soiled claws / carry my septic flesh / dead rosary and bone / heavy around your neck,
a noose of sacrificed rot to pray with.
Starved, I reclaim you like wet dirt / pregnant and exhausting corpse perfume.
–
Effy Winter is a contemporary romantic poet, provocative by nature. Her work explores eroticism and heartache while portraying the spawning of a carnal hunger for witchery, lust and self-sacrifice. Effy’s first novel, Flowers of the Flesh, is set to be released in December 2018. Her poetry is forthcoming in Rust + Moth and other literary journals. You can learn more about Effy and her work at https://www.effywinter.com. Twitter: @fleurwomb
