Devotion to Demons

Partial emphasis on the pieces. Thwarts the progress. Of antagonized molecules. She says the numbers. Out loud. To hear the thought. Dense in the choke of the darkness. To lubricate the devil. As his viscous wings flap hard inside her.

Force the curve. Train the line. With absolute precision. Sleep on the brick. Wake to the cotton. As if time can be translated by wont of touch. The barrel fills. The rain comes down. In surprises of flesh. Too alike counting. Out loud.

Snakes in the parchment. Ink of venom. Solve the heart. A series of riddles. Taken from the lips of god.

Pulling the lever. On the tower of ink in her head. Stiffening the arm. As the stretcher opens. To catch. The girl. Who isn't falling.

What happened happened. What I am still remembers.

The hours on her wrists exploding. Little ticks. Growing fat on the moments. Only blood can believe. Her devotion to the the paradox changes nothing.