Exhumed: the watcher

he feels your decay: with his hands, his touch on your
skull. he is finally inside your mind, pulsating
energy rushing through his finger tips. your thoughts

melt into him. “I am skin and blood and rot and mud.” before
his eyes, you blur. beauty falls away, snowflakes
of flesh and teeth catch on your tongue and in your throat

stopping your voice and scream. your eyes are silent,
hollow confessionals. the truth shall set you free. sorrow
takes flight in the hearts of black-winged birds.  pain sinks

the heart like rocks and mud.  digging in the dirt, find pain
and the eggs of the birds of sorrow.  he cradles your head
and covers your body in shadow and love. you shiver

and you might shiver for eternity. you’re cold and stone
and might shiver.  he may make love to you tonight, and I may
join you again. cold stone and earth.  he might find bone and bitter

sweet shrapnel of my love. he might touch you like others before
him. he stands in shallow grave. he might sleep forever. he
might fall asleep forever and melt away with you.

This poem is a little something creepy for Halloween…

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