he was set like daggers
in the teeth of the world but
those shaking eyes have lost
their luster because you are
gone. you have skinned him and
left him to be grape vines and dried
leaves. he is not hte alcohol, we can
no longer get drunk off of him. you
are. and you took him and molded
him into a chalice to fill with your
wine. your wine that tastes stale
without the billowing swell of his
sweetly fermented words.
but he has lost the stars, someone
****** them out of his marrow; he
smirks now with less of the divine
glow of eden and more that
of a carcass, the dead body of the last
words you said to him. do not apologize.
he is far gone.
you can tell by the way
his fingers tremble and the way
the wit is empty
the blood is empty
the soul is empty.
come back.