The Heart's Gauntlet

The faceless man said I owed him my "devil-heart" for escaping the womb.

For years, I'd slice him off morsels

and he'd lick his palms clean of my Beelzebub blood.

Once I slid plate-mail over my crippled heart,

He could only crow at the weight I carried.

"I would suffer it all again."

Our armor was strewn about like molt.

Our shadows rose like smoke over our sweating flesh.

The remains of my heart undulated loudly on her bosom.

Her emerald eyes dripped sweet tears of ecstasy:

my holy water—