Hello again-
Cover my bones with your cardigan
how long have you been a necro baby?
Cause' I've been dead since 2010.

Am I still cold?
when you wrap that woolen yellow round my back
Is my body old?
as you stroke blackberry lips with the breath that I lack.

Do you like the way
my eyes
- still alive -
never shut?
Someone can finally stand to look on you,
man of sin, skin, bore; a mutt.

Can you feel the dryness beneath my throat?
Watch the insects flee my face
and see the rot of teeth in the midst of groan.

Hello again.
Bramble crowned amongst worst of men.
How long have you been a necro, honey?
Cause' I'm dead as poet's pen.

it is but my fantasy,
asleep in a chrysalis of surrounding dark
aware of the day i become moth,
never to raise a silver moon wing-
dead as a flightless lark.

I am tired of being a ****** property,
by the time I have grown into my skin
all I ought to be
is cloth of a million miles,
I become the sea.
Blamed for men and their poverty,
lack of shame and social precocity
- inspired by years of gulosity -
my sisters and me,
so eroded by eyes, we've reached our callosity.
Woman, with him at war, must reap the sorrows of the land.
Simple and pacing solution; I must reap the life from man.

My indigo
where did you go?
Far off to
lands of who and why
to color another purple sky,
a little more blue.

Some say I have a poet's mouth
but, I am mute
until touched by a lustrous moon
drowned in black river; south.
A breath of song, sung autumn by
he left, he gone, I die, I die.

Oh death's cold shiver and rotten hand
against times of gold arising,
found me in my crowded solitude and
kept sure the sun could not shine to me.