We painted passion upon a canvas of twilight.
Each thirsting gasp breathed a new nebula,
Each benighted convulsion spilled pearlescent hues.
In rapturous devotion,
Our caresses licked stars into existence,
Illuminating a carnal vignette upon the black cosmos.
Beneath such artistry, we drowned,
Willingly choking on the gargle of beauty and perversion we birthed.
And as the paint devoured us,
It formed worlds where only lust was God.
Featured Image Credit: Tim Samuel / Pexels
Shaun J Mclaren
Hi, I am an early career gothic scholar and writer with an appreciation for the fantastical, sinister and depressing. My prose and poetry tends to focus on expressing an optimistic perspective on emotional turmoil with the cold cynicism typical of a socially akward and existentially weary Scotsman. I am currently studying MRes Arts and Humanities at the University of Stirling, specialising in weird literature and philosophical nihilism. I hold BA Hons in English Literature and Philosophy and am literature editor at The Mourning Paper magazine.
