Whoreship (Emerald Invidia)

I came to revere her as I melted over a replay of our semi-formal. I can see her pupils painted like chapel tapestries in the creases of my palms.
The video's flickers produce four/four palpebration in her moribund blue eyes. That satin dress clings where only these love-scarred wrists should.

I'm wearing her glances as a pearl necklace, strung so tightly as to show why they say love is a only a facet. Bury this pulsation in the sepulture of our passion. Cradling meaningless conversation like deities.
"Please let me play god to your lying Jesus. It's all I ask."