What can one take apart of the dead?
My spirit coiled about her naked self
Is left to be trimmed by fate,
Disposed upon the railroad, listless and waving a mere finger
To the horrors on the bloody ceiling,
The reddened skies.
Falsify me
To the awaited, opened wrists.
Remind me
Of something I once kissed.
Not of blood, though of sound,
The ecstatic jeers, simple in their owning
Of me, in my once-brightened life,
As I'm now curled in frozen drunkenness.
Her eyes watched the memory,
My love dropped a curtain
Upon its already-dismembered remains.
She seduced me into her arms,
Bit me as I began to rot.
She drunk my fumes, for I was wilting.
I groaned a sound
Too many to be found
For their evasive origin.
I gave weight
To a state
To find myself to sink.
Your eyes, your well,
My thoughts, this Hell.
Say you'll know me
On a path, on a journey.
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