LONDON CHOKES ON HER OWN BLOOD
( an au marauders era set in 1982 )

Languid lips soften, destructive.
The long, abrasive tongue of putrefaction
clad onto the air, undisputed in its wanting.
Crooked are the eyes that light up the night sky;
beware this face, the talons pressed against your crown.

She'll pick your teeth one by one, this city you once adored.