snip, snip slip (the ending)

the end, that was that.

come into my body

against a hardwood door

steep your ragged soul in,two my womanly soup

mines dried, waiting - huddled over an ice glazed slope

 

'snip, snip' we go

and

fall asleep

and

wake up

to

 

dull, grey head

dull, grey bed

dull, grey monotonous morning

                  monotone bliss

 

Dress the xmas tree with Yuletide Fat

and sparkling red orbs which feel so delicate in hand

turn on the television

needle back together furthermore frayed assortments of your soul

 

your withered, pruned soul

your dried husk of a home

your life-impressionating heartbeat