Photo Credit: Helmut Newton

For the fairy fingers
Your hands will hold
One by one
My rotten nails I’d rip and tore

For the place of honor
Your arms will guard
One by one
My filthy bones I’d break apart

For the blue spring holes
Your lips will crave
One by one
My sad two greys I’d scratch away

For the witchy smile
Your words will dawn
One by one
These poisoned teeth I’d pull and blow

For the regal paleness
Your tenderness will trap
One by one
My veins I’d draw of the last blood drop

One by one
I’d skin my soul of every inch of me
To blossom in the only dream of paper
You can call Love.

Poem by Liliana Isella.

Photo by Helmut Newton.