a manifesto.
- artbycupid
- Jan 6
- 1 min read
Updated: Feb 28
To fall is to be a dove
no longer. It is a sanction;
wings tarnished in soil.
Should he ever watch me
break my neck,
he may never rest again. My body
twisted in his mind.
A raw reminder of love's
chaotic thorn, made to rip apart
in the name of desire. Desire,
who has no face, and
no reason. A cold truth
disguised with a lie.
Desire is no light thing, but I'll
make it light.
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