hegel gothic

a fugitive from that clear tear

filled reservoir,

she had not used despite

emotional fractures,

his fracking of her loins

as a way to magic love gases

leaving stains on nocturnal linen,

it was a dimension of time

she did not want to fill,

running through avenue of trees

and answer that once and only calling

leaving vomit on tree roots,

offering to those sprites that

intrigue our fairytale curiosity ,

dark folds and long chimed bell,

within heavy breasted heart

answers writhed as a bed

of worms center of her being

and all that it withstands,

change had many prices

and used only certain currencies

that she had to pay,

was it worth it

nail scrawled words on her back

proved it

 

Sunday whirl

 

when she flies

loathing had been a mirror of his sleep,

now without sanitorium or astral light,

deaths pungency had gone

she lay before him,

naked as the solemnized wedding bed,

sewn with silk and love

cerise ridge scars

created with a skill he never knew he had,

her offal once mortal

he feasted upon

washed with wine and tears,

absorbing her

leaving her with mechanics,

parting her legs

felt for the copper tube

inserted handle

and turned each activating

and animating,

mechanical precision went into motion

body shuddered

eyes a shade of fog fluttered open,

she could move

with silence as her voice was no more,

he helped her dress

that velvet gown

he loved so much,

outside to walk again

without fear of bacteria or virus

morning filled the mountains with shadow,

holding hands

her face a dark riddle,

in her eyes she had the knowledge

to do the same for him

when that time came

to walk immortal together,

then she paused

he thought mechanics had failed

as she began to lift off the ground

taking flight,

he panicked calling out

as she slipped out of grasp,

soared higher into air

unable to reply,

that she had a lover she had

to find

Chagall

 

 

Pitiful Fear of Being Undead

when you see things at night

from that pointed edge of eye,

lack of concentration makes you

fall,

with split dusty lip

blood in a trickle,

there are things that need

to bite to eat,

so hold your breath

and let a simple fear grow,

lurking in the doorway

bareheaded prowler of the night,

heart a ticking clock

raising a clamor

no mortal creature approaches,

mopping blood on paper tissue

red stain dropped scented a plenty,

he has strayed from his paradise

and i am to be his chalice,

teeth and lips taste my flesh,

memories blend and blur,

heart slows to a dull stutter,

revelations pause and pass,

i will go to earth

a blacken chrysalis

and raise my fear another day