smuggle me once more unto your heart darling dear,
i’m a rapid anodyne diplomat of hope.
there’s no water in the trough over here.
and we are drying the rope
so recently washed of its blood.
sensory experience deprivation of the very first kind—
it was a monster head embalmed in port
after warrants dispersed by a people forsworn
and devout.
and i’m but a bald day long
languisher for your lies, a witless suitor
for your amour.
god, sometime in the middle of the 20th
century, all doubt about your
power and continued existence
left the earth forever.
Leave a Reply