28/12/2011

Dead Skin Cells

a skeletal disaster, you are rotten to the bone
gravity holds you up like a magnet, pulling
ligaments through skin. madness sprouts
from your skull, drenching me to the bone.

a beautiful zombie without a name, you drift
between reality and sunbeams lapping the
silhouettes from the pavement. your skin floats,
embedding into the cotton of the clouds, to croak.

your children shred themselves into strips
of mathematics, multiplying into the jagged wind
the wolves pull on their denim. this is relative,
your concern. lightning couldn’t splinter your bones.

eyes that could only see translucent bacteria cells
were only good for staring through walls. eventually
the salt water will be enough. love me darling, love me,
with your flakes of dead skin cells, until I’m satisfied.