a bone-born body,
stretched thin, wire-taught.

he kisses each speck of red,
***** at every open hole.

a name is never said,
instead each fragile letter is replaced
with

             “sweetheart,
my darling boy;

wake those tired eyes,
i’ve got you now.”


waves of ribs, motionless;
a set of lungs, naked to the touch of breath -
he can’t comprehend
why this trembling body has suddenly stilled.

            “oh, my hummingbird boy,
where has your song gone?

keep those flutter-winged eyes shut,
i’ve got no one.

             not a soul to encase.”

past midnight blue,
an aged light in the sky
guides two bodies to a cradle in the earth,

and only one is set down,
wrapped in the warmth of freshly dug soil.

this was emptiness, the feeling he felt;
the sea above offered no condolences,
only rainfall,


the man with scarlet skin
lays down his body in the mud,
stares at the corpse he made
and prays for the earth to swallow him up.