a darkness alone
in the human.

where it is wrapped
in perfect peace.

perfect pleasure.

drinking its sweat
and talking its philosophy
in full detail
to itself.

-laughing.

-grinning.

swirling its ten-inch finger
around the rim
of its glass-

-it is the ringing in your head..

drunk in the cave
with spiders
walking
through
the nightmare
carrying away
the vaguer pieces
on the well defined rine
of their oil-slick backs.

nesting
and nurturing
incestuous pods
to light the walls.

to ignite the glow
of its vacant grin.

the mist swims out
and dies.

scanning your body
and watching the show
of your soul decomposing

with its ****** eyes

half open and
tasting you.

rotting the tongue
which talks in
your broken,
burnt-down
asylum of a mind.