I sit inside the warmed haze of 

Quiet loom & motions ticking about

Cylindrical & roving
I’ve pushed out the cluttered heart

Plucked it apart, murmuring against

It’s deadfall beats…

Oh cautious thing, dead & ungrieved 

I’ve opened my jaws wide to consume

Whatever remains [a little whisper of

yesterday’s blood ] it’s a dried up thing now

Black & little perfuse in its foul odours of

Indignant & decayed effulgence

—A strange perfume
I grip the tattered thing, a tough sinew

A gagging in my throat, I don’t care anymore
I’m silent now. Silence is now 

My heartbeat. 


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