Drinking blood
of sinful
bodies
that want
no more
than a hand
to bite down on.

******* every
last drop
of metallic
liquid out
to taste life
the way
it is.

I am envisioning a world of bots,
pulling us into the black hole
of innovation and technology,
with no trees, no schools, no collages,
nothing that is bricks and mortar.
Can you envisage a life on man-made oxygen?  
Can you imagine the fantasy world
in movies becoming our real world?
I'm being ingenuously curious,
how long before
a plethora of machines and bots,
a metallic universe created by man,
replaces everything we have lived for?
A few more countable years perhaps.
Just the thought sets me off in trepidation.
I wish to somehow freeze and slowdown
the evolving era so the living flesh and blood
could be prepared for what they are about to face.

the clay watched with rented breath
the red robe genuflect before
the dirt-dark nailed wood.

strange words were uttered
choral echoes flew
they too would bend their knees
those veiled long hair
those oval faces with scanning eyes.

the red robe spoke
they moved the corners of their mouths
till they were too far
they nodded, and nodded, and nodded
they did not know how to stop.
the red robe did not speak
he read from two slabs.

the air cracked by a
tip-toe cadence of metallic muttering
they held their breath
but there was panting.

with one unseen flicker
that stole as fast as
light shot from up beyond
there
perched on that dirt-dark nailed wood
a dove of light of blinding vaporous whiteness.

we hid our eyes.
our faces too.

we only saw a tall slender spiral staircase
that ascended a long, long,
long way.

Been with me the longest of all,
Through all tough times,
And every small brawl.

Your sweet ticking sound,
And your elegant black look,
Your metallic cold touch,
Changed my life like a fairy tail book.

O my friend, my lucky charm
How I am gonna miss,
Your warmth around my wrist.

You Served me well,
Always fair,
And just in time,
For a single cell.

The time has come,
It's the toughest of all,
You left me alone,
Gone in a single fall.
        - *The ******

Read to me about things i'll never see
Imagine I'm sitting up in a hospital bed
Cradled by white cotton pillows infused with bleach
Empty clear bendy plastic cups sit neglected
My usual lipstick stains stayed in the handbag today
Your fingertip bruises decorate me instead
I once thought:
There is no better colour than the colour that they put into your eyes
That is the colour of the liquid that they have put in the drip bag
I might not be able to picture that colour, but I recognise the feeling of it entering my body
Rusty clots and mascara dust barricade it from leaving

Maybe not immediately
Or in a weeks time
But the cells of my heart muscles are becoming saturated with the juices
Becoming preserved in syrup
Seized and breathless

I knew that from the very first time I have been a can of something
Its label torn off
Unsealed and bleeding
And we both knew Duct tape couldn't keep that together
Still my hands were cupped trying to clasp
But now Its embedded under my fingernails.

Downy flowing dripping
That metallic taste in my mouth
I knew there was something wrong
with me before I knew
what it was
I still don't know exactly
But I do know for sure
when I step into a room
no one looks to the door