ENIGMA OF ICHOR   ,   rancid   &   rotten origin   ,   plagued by relics of succubus vestige   //   —   engraved into ossien, tainting righteous cartilage, haunting her essence well beyond her demise.     ❝      clearly.      ❞     remnants of inquisition. debris ‘pon the curvature of hemlock, drenched in the sin of her own QUERIES   &   ACCUSATIONS.     ❝      you think i’d waste a bullet on you   ?      ❞     fragments of mirth   ,   introduce gunpowder   &   lead   ,   residue of delight.     ❝      let me guess   ———   things to steal   ,   people to steal from.      ❞

             ❝    i’m  not  obliged  to  help  you   –   i  don’t  owe  you  anything   ❞    she remembered the mouth of god tasted like acid.  kissing her lips as it would an enemy,  she is without.  a hollowing sound,  a night aria.  with  her  fingertips  burning  red,  she’s  tried  for  so  long  to  paint  her  mirrors,  just don’t look at her like that.     ❝    you  get  up  on  your  high  horse  if  you  want,  i’m  not  the  murderer here.     ❞     is that true ?