who was a temple in Great
Cadaver
wellspoken
like a real true
cracky ****** artist

spinning long long
silks out of sticky
blueish tissue

and Temple worshipped
the heads
larvae as they
martyred their caulky

carrion in the bruise
machines of hearts
punishing blood
with long long fists

and weren't those our last
hands curtained in the
strange milks

of the passage
through a
Mother
long-called Death

who might've been
warm
had we wanted to
feel