silkened gravel

 

rotten hissing,

 

 

whirling through

each fiber

ear rumbling goose bump.

she pokes me with her cold,

bad circulation, finger

heart pulsing soft and breakable the tissue,

slips under the tips,

scarred by the nail,

bleached white by the prints of

trace,

and

all

in one moment

I

can hear her

sing my harmony song from

her

guts

and

the

lie

is

simple.

 

neck hair arise

as she hums

cleaning up

my

last pulse push

blood

from her

shoe.

 

fading,

 

succumbing to

the

black realization, as infested, infected creeps,

festering

me deep,

 

into

worm food,

 

as ashen drained decompose.