Beside the Crucifix

sighing skins grieve the villains who've molested them. the daring particle close enough to the fang. to swim in the hungry saliva. of a predator's whim. it dances slowly. on the point of the pin. shouting at the blunt of the thread. about how many holes there are still to mend.

a chorus of snakes weep. at the funeral of the rat. giving away her time to the cracks in fragile atoms. straddling the earthquakes. a whore. chewing through the mud for a worthy cock.

the future boasts from a distant ledge. feather stones beating on leather flesh. we'd all be rich. if time were cum and hours made flesh.

but we are bones. the hard edges struck into the soft soil of when. these poisons were sufficient measure. of all the devils we call friend.