It's a lot of work
Having to drag myself up here
Before slicing you off of me,
Piece by piece,
Tossing the already-rotting morsels
To the raptors
Lurking from the crags,
Anticipating
With rapt hunger.

Those poor birds
Having to settle for gristle,
Already spoiled by rancor and impermanence,
I hope they pardon me
Like how I'm starting to forgive you --
With resignation
Accepting
That it was all you had to offer
In your desolation and brokenness.
And maybe I should have known better
That you didn't know better
Than to sear your conscience,
That betrayal was all you knew.

The trek back down
Ought to be easy.
How can it not be
When I am divested
Of these memories staining me --
Of us flashing sickly sweet grins at each other
Breathing each other in
Serenaded by the music of our souls,
Each asomatous snapshot
Titanic in weight.

I'm surprised
The winds haven't carried me off by now.

Malice and Contempt on the faces of astomatous men,
Encroaching
Scratching on footsteps they glide.
Outstretched limbs attached to husks of Decadent Skin,
Floating,
The spectres golden oblong shaped eyes.
Yet still I witness the bodies of enlightened men Entombed...
What figures will be left to divide?
They poisoned any hope of asomatous redemption
This acidic virus will erode away at all time...

Dark
(Whose solace makes from my fibers sanctuary)
Floods — asomatous noyade beginning with a drip —  the splanchnic organs
Sweet like honey drops light
From celestial bodies
Unto my parted lips, breath-warm tongue.
(still) the moon
Bending my cheek to kiss
Exhales in quiet caress
As night sinks and drifts

Along thine path
grow flowers; shapes
and sizes abound,
but nothing could
compare to all
the things you've
found

along the way-
Egregious liar
born-again friar
that woman briar
all to the ire
of your mother.

Thus I admire
this walked path
of contest and
clashing, both of
the asomatous and true;
incorporated incorporeal-
ism, what else could you
possibly do?