Two fingers, dried and shrivelled reach inwards
And proceed thoughtfully, through a corridor of teeth.
Chewing saliva at the forefront of the tongue
Currents all bubbling around each gum

Yeast smelling and old, he lay a finger, a scraping corkscrew
Attached to her heart, a lopsided arched heart
Pumping that foul stink under her skin
So fabricated but so true, rising into black

Through and through, and silent along his adventure
Her blurry eyes see white, he pants
And she stays mute
Markings are miniature, just prints on her neck.

08/21/2003

Author's Note: This is a sad one.. but it's what you make of it.

Posted on 08/21/2003
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