Expedition

She was a muffin laced with green buds Her surface was caramel Once my mouth devoured her existence her taste was nothing short of omen My doubt had found it's voice then her palms kissed my face She shot blood into the whites of my eyes Then I retreated to a world behind the lids of my eyes She was an angel that shook my core Her crown a halo with no gold Her wings spotless of feathers shaped like fingers skinned to the bone Where her eyes were ought to occupy were black holes. Cold and vacant And her robe was like skin That found no favour in melanine