Glopowrimo 25

Glopowrimo #25

That icy heart
those icy hearts
skin sandalwood brown
that would
if knifed
bleed ashen drops
yet still fragrant
those faces malevolent that made me drown

The skeletal veins
of crushed, cold, leaves
slush-white-wet
that carpet the ground
under yon black-branched sky-leaning trees

The bitter-gourd tasting nipples
of the she-wolves
in this untimely rain's torrential sleet
stinging their skin like needles of guilt
at being unable to reach their wolf-cubs, to feed

The black horse galloping through
the snow-covered sunflower fields
on which sits a ghostly damask-red clad woman
a black rose pinned to her bared leprous-white breast's crevice

Pierced by the dagger of her ice
My heart feels heavy, sinking; this dark, gloomy night
Whilst the season whispers "everything dies"
Does this last season want to take my life?