Pisaries Creator

I looked it in the eye
Right in the middle
It was deep and black.

When the flesh softens
And the bones are intact
It waits and wants.

What a pretty face
Not an oblong shaped thing
That takes different names.

It isn’t for everyone
But inevitability come with a mouth
That sucks you in and drools.

It is I who stares
At your reputation
And recognizes how your weakness
Must bother you.

I long for what releases
The bitterness of my breath
Not the curve of my spine.

The deeper and blacker the eye
Widened the sacrifice
And surrendered to the unknown.