Tuesday, September 09, 2014

the widows in waiting



you will die.
you will die like the others.

maybe
you will push your
last breath
against our wailing chests.

if we are lucky.

maybe
they will find your husk
eaten, wasted, the bone
shoving through your meat
after they have already forgotten
you were lost
everyone but us.
everyone but those
who sleep by your pillow.

our faces
will curdle with tears
sharp ribcages
caving in
and everything will bleed
everything will bleed
everything will run red
and everyone
who walks with us
will track it through the world.

this love will knife us,
screaming,
as we try to crawl away.

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