S.M.H. 日 04/06/2019 · admin No comments


in the matted glen
under a sky grey as nails
i knelt next to the open mouth
to the body i laid my lips

i sought to taste

the strangeness of dying
i sought to see
what the eyes
of deadmilk
did see

in the purgatory of time,
i gagged for a vision

the dark wood glowed
like the orange coils of
an electric lantern
like a coal
deep red
in its waning