I Waited For the Apocalypse

I waited for the apocalypse. It’s what I wanted. Desire I am your daughter of decadence. The mutability! of this life! The mutability! of desire! Hours of languishing Paradise, hiding from the trauma of daylight. Predated by darkness, I stand amidst chandeliers of electric light in the morning sorrows mist, and I wonder why why why. Why did I survive the nights of cold childhood?

I witnessed crocuses born in the spring snows. The black mantises eagerly devouring life. Pandora with her chalice of nightmares. Decoy gods fallen from the disaster stars in their black hanging gardens. The orifices of carrion flowers beckoning me to death and desire like the apis killing sting. I sink into evening, seeking amnesia in the dark boulevards of dreams. I want to be shattered. My ransomed gypsy flesh. Like Eve I died for desire and was met with sublime silence. Even oblivion has its doors to holiness.

In the beginning was the World, and the World was with God, and the World was God. Disquiets in the dust before the universe genesis. Great berserker Desire, I am your blind captive. I am vivisected by my mirror selves. The body is an open wound. Madonna chokes in the morgue of moonless midnights. Rebirth inside the chrysalis of divine silence.

Life in these ruins: tell me this is becoming. The Styx shivers in spring. Sirens scream from storm-tossed deep seas. I bargain with armed shadows: remember the agony of memory. In the gauze of days, I am barely awake. I dream of a sabbath on another earth. This nocturnal world cannot anchor me so I disappear with the wild winds. It’s what I chose. Longing, the rhapsody of the gods. Oh, I waited for the apocalypse. It’s what I wanted. It’s what I know.