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Fluorescence Bodies buckling under curdled weight Caught by rusty spring digging bruises with tight skin and empty chests knees knock against hallowed walls and fall slack to side Congealed scents mask the wanderings of youthful cedar limbs Tightened pelvis rocks and shudders to a halt Grinding splinters pierce in all the soft spots all the soft spots spoil rot and smolder with a fiery glaze Turn over twice before he leaves you sitting in the brash light ... It's so clear What should have been done. Published in Out/Words #1 (view contents) |