Sunday, November 15, 2009

A female corpse, back view

Down turned

Mouth filled with dirt

Long have I lain


A jeweled apple

my skull talks back

decomposed prettily

barnacles from our sea

arrange themselves in little rows

tegument me


I do my corpse-waltz

To your side

press your lips on mine

I want to smell you exhale

Feel you pale

Linen wrapped

my body arabesques

flinging free

a jaundiced arm

Surprised it still can sway


You brandish desire

Like a sword

In a flourished grave

I've become cowardly.

There is nothing left human

To recognize by

Dark circles

Ring my eyes

I hear chanting

deep inside

My coffin dilates

to abide you

cob-webbed and crippled

brightest thing I've seen

Come, lay next to me

Dust is beginning to become me

Touch these drying wounds

Still bleeding ochre.

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