Titled Ladders

tremors in the void. wear her well enough. solvent conditions. tempted by the idle. casual encounters with a softer finish.

the night coughs. sicker still. with concrete cunts and broken cocks. the world is the same as her eyes. open wide, seeing nothing.

want compels the tiniest fibers and the biggest beasts. little pieces of glass tainting every step.

watching. as the dark is given to do. a focused confusion. an accordion of skin. breathes us out. swallowing the remains.

the process assumes the product. the future bleeds out of the past. little hammers in the choke of her fist.  blunt pens in the scar tissue. paint their scabs.

travelling quietly. through a shrinking world.

running on broken glass.