The Second Epoch of Delilah
My fingertips traced the synthesis of a modeled Sword Lane, one that was meant to caress the surreptitious epistle of human varmint. My given kirtle travelled through all the foyers of this fortress but could not bid exodus.
It was his rascal peer that daunted both layers of my skin, and the tertiary implores your hair lacing. Must I leak the reoriented verglas pasturing on the tincture of dripping tears?
All I have ever done was be, and that very occurrence was contrived upon me without a sense of vile agency. He plagued me with what he had stored in the crevasse of his belonging.
Delilah, as tedious as stone.
And I, an icicle that is a cleave of a performing glacier. Curbed by the secluded passage of time, an ancillary formed by the forging hand of another. I cannot unbind my frozen palms neither congeal the atlas chiseled on my back. I am obscured by wardens of false sentiment whose penetrating sight conceals my antecedent seer.
He told me that ordinance executes even the scarcity of blue in nature, and that founded pallet was the slumber my seraphim was supposed to be ensconced within. But the Visigoth key consummates thrice, and I am left with what he has left of me; a flesh of orchids and anthesis.
He used his vigor to father an amethyst string, although half his duress would have been enough. And in a gesture of evanescence, I held sight of Andromeda’s sailing creaks. He made me a lucid wisp to the plinth that incarcerated the feather mattress, and the precarious moon watched over my tepidity.
Delilah, his hands of grime.
He alluded that one must think of their knuckles as sheets of trifle, an acreage of misty shores. A terrace where the dueling knights bargain using their swords. He told me that my canines where descendants of the bite mark that segregated Cain, that I better think of them as waning gold, violated by the touch of mercury.
Nothing is beyond me, not even why he is so inclement. That force of his never weeps, it pursues the trail of orisons rendered on the knees. And his garden of monastery decries the twilight scenery because it echoes me. His ashet as shallow as his sage, his bread as virulent as his seed.
And my feet dare not stray, as my annunciation summons yours, as they repose me inside that wagon. I am to be impaled; they thought that his bodily transgressions did not sully me enough. Man knows how to pervade, but never how to originate.
Delilah, my dolor extends as his tresses beset my frame.
How much should I secrete for you to become betrothed to me? How many eidolons of murky umbrages must my delicate ribs endure?
His armoire assailed me whenever my gashes weren’t as commodious, or as taut, or as prude, or as carmine. It is but a spate of paradoxes. An emperor of mortification found me, and although my desiccating mien proved I am not suited for the crux of a walking odalisque, the blinking inferno occupying his sight still claimed the resplendence nesting deep inside the cavities he drilled.
And his imperial palace stretches into a thousand assemblies, whilst mine splits into a wound. I carry what is yet to be his perfidy, but his spoor comes around again. His spear walks not past me before a grievous greet.
Delilah, avenge my vexation with your treachery.
Two winters elapsed, and I passed an ode to my thirteenth shed of blood, that I shalt parse more than the shield of scutum. That I must propound the prowess of the empress on the dry land of corporeality, and he must have foreseen my forthcoming from the tarot cards he plays with as his lips drip of distress. But his gaze never turned clairvoyant, only carnal.
On a crepuscular night, his pine led him to the vines of my raven stain, and his royal mantle leaned. Dragging his Nazirite hair, my manus disentangled his braid as an edentulous comb. His clamor preceded his pretense valor.
And here I am, my kirtle still inspecting the course to premature death, despite extracting one sole strand of his.
Delilah, plunder my heir of sorrows.
Delilah, your Philistine harp is known to have ensnared the locks of a man, may you harness it again to reincarnate the severed foam of Uranus?
