Tear their fairy wings, and will they bleed bread, lilies spilling from their tongues? Are those serpent tongues?

Will their skin turn blue, a blooming summer sky?

Will the diamonds peel off their own cheeks to be clutched by earth's greedily stained hands?

Tear open their fairy eyes, and will they see the moon pearled in the rain, their pupils stretching to swallow the shivering stars?
Are those eyes serpent eyes?

                  O.           R.

Their blood will be sludge, wings made of cotton candy and dandelions coated in mirrors now dissolved, slugs spilling from their ruby lips - and those flashing serpent tongues.

Their skin will rot, turn to lead and worms.

Their diamonds will twist, the fingertips of vines curling through the void to clutch the sun's tears - and then they will be pale kings of a sandcastle.

Their eyes will fill with coal-drenched memories and a future bleached in mercury, their pupils shrinking to 6' - and those bone-tea serpent eyes.



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