My Breath Makes a Path Through the Dust

Mist embrace marble, step timidly
Evening shed, bled through fissured glass
Sapless leaves caress her marble sheet
Church bells, far-flung, ring
Within this coffin, she lays her head
A waning, ambered silhouette
Breathe whispers, my words trembling
Dust motes clutched in suspension
Remove her finery, bloodless skin
On her knees, in a posture of prayer
My breath flew, thrust-through, barbed thorns
Church bells, far-flung, ring
Collapsed on her back, once pinned in the dirt
Buggered whore, stare under her skirt
Tongue upon thigh, lick careless lust
My breath makes a path through the dust
Her habit hiked up, black, rotten and tattered
Flung over her head, fingers seize upon her neck
Foreplay embark, tongue pushing past
Whisper a path through her dust
Hushed lips I kissed, an open wound
Whilst teardrops cleave the worm's acre
God's faithful laid bare to lust
My breath makes a path through the dust