Wash away tonight.
Dear carcass with the flaxen hair.
With the myopic eyes now colorless, stare at the bottom of love's sea.
The endless highs and lows of a joyous grievance.
Invited in tonight for the price of a glass.
Sharing this bottle dear nursery.
Change of tone.
Change of pace.
Focus on this moment.
I am told to be a father now.
Over the electric line severed and replaced with towers so empty.
The news ripples and disperses in only me.
What else could it do?
Stay my feet. Move me forward.
I am not able to stop sipping from this cup of horrors.
She envies my numbing.
And I sip further and deeper.
Every inhalation.
And with every seed spilled.
Onto your belly.
Or into our womb.
With every ecstasy.
Your memories sink deeper.
But what is to come when the pain spills here and there?
And when you walk alone in the cold, who is there to suckle with?
I can't believe.
Of all the hearts I've consumed, yours floats here now.
And there is no return to Grace with these seas flooding my heart.
All my hopes and fears, bereft with the swit blow downward.
Ascension performed and the mess is dropped.
The blood spilled and a trail of me onward home.
Am I?
Tragedy.
