darkness and charcoal

drapes of things found in attics

wrap around her frame






unclouded topaz noon

pale tumid marble pieces

bob on the surface






his new measured home

in the allocated plot

deep dark underground





unmarred by the passage of time
so fair
so pristine, so prime
oh, so debonair

your face rotted off
not a strand on your head
your white bony wrist
still tied to your bed

as beautiful as always
i gaze in astonishment
you suddenly twirl
in joyous bewilderment

you laugh, twist and turn
locked in my arms
your eyes blaze and burn
i don’t fall for your charms

you say “you’ll never have me,
so you’ll have to kill me”
and “take this knife,
bury it in me”

i draw with the tip
loops on your belly
ghosting the blade
along your spine

“it won’t end it, you know
you’ll still be alive”
a droplet of crimson
runs down your side

you’ll always be here
my cyanide bride