Poem by Anna Patsou

Your passion is murky
like the night.
You fall to your knees and worship
the hedonism of your own madness.
I try to steal
a bit of that madness,
hoping it will set me free
from my own insanity.
I draw near,
I want to taste you,
and the closer I get… I tremble,
from your searing breath, crimson-colored,
from that… tainted demon
you hide within.
And the wind wraps around me,
tangles in my hair,
its sorrow
howls sin… within my body,
my feet burn
as if I’m walking on embers.
And yet—
Devil, I do not fear you.
No… I do not fear you.
I loved you…