Gabrielle Rose

At Sacr Coeur
I am bent over loves urn as a gendarme stops me from entering the basilica nor am I allowed to leave

Your breath, a fever wind where the pulse of loves arrhythmia fists blood round this lovers knot and

snow blue fingers rake my wrists stroke me towards the altar of eternity as I supplicate the sacred incisor that has already slain me from

my discordant twin.

What cryptic saints guard this rent heart, cloven - rendered still?

A sudden cask ushers a byzantine heliod embalm; vivid scent as I receive the Myrrh

Gabrielle Rose

and

Over, I cuff my eyes towards a lasting imprimatur while an uncanny music in an unholy clef coddles me awake and

I am bandaged in loves fury.