calling me home. You’re slung low in my guts

the way gods cradle a newly minted

mortal. Kiss me and know just how riots

smolder, vexed by their own fire. Chaos feels

nothing like that, being form and formless,

like blood, like cum. Spreads your lips wide, ordeals

of the soul require a gaped grin. Transgress.

Honey blood dripping no less. Carnivore

your needs. Betray your paths. You know I will

follow you anywhere. Your rosebud, gaped

O wrapped around a stone tower. Sink core

deep. That’s my Chaos to you; deformed thrill,

gnarled and scintillating, my soul misshaped.