Profuse breadcrumbs

Scattered on ivory tablecloth

Endows fret

Upon seven vowed years.

Teeth become

Ticking tusks to

blissfully uprear skin

around the heart,

as boots sit on tight veins

Night fell

with bubbling oil

On vailed flames,

Passion protrudes after 12pm,

and final scream shatter the dark.

It was that silent evening,

Hate conquered all.

-Haikeda Hilliman