The corset is a cage waiting for night to fall,
captivating the shadow that waits,
for Deuteronomy on the plains of Moab.
Tangled in leather the weight of night,
where the soltice burns a breath of candle,
and the flame becomes profane.
Sliding down the smile of a ghost,
where the salt meets the Dead Sea,
scattering to the winds.
Where the corset is waiting,
sinking into an orgasm before light,
as the heart becomes a sin.
