Thursday, May 7, 2009

Yellow crusted over yogurt dripping from sliced wounds, or the balls we thought were in play sit blankly underrosaries of hanging jungle vines wrapped around an inferno of technological orgy sizzled fuck spread left impressions of our Lord on bedsheets left behind buried next to the bones of a dying distant planet only to be kept awake, adrift from the rain falling outside tonight across plains of leftover beer cans and condoms this is the electric sex pot encrusted sheets stuck together under your family’s old quilt and left to rot under the sink of the farmhouse’s broken mirror under it we lay all night and sang whispered prayers to one another until our muscles fueled with acid burning worth it we cried out when morning came and we remembered the night we did covered in straw and love and DNA like a mirored vortex a cat in a bag never existing but never caring.

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