Tears don't cut the way they should;
nothing purges, when I feel like
vomitting the life right out of me
and into the gluttonous earth.

She must have been raped,
defiled at an early age -
the earth - to exact such
heartless and indiscriminatory revenge.

Fading alone, he remembers
how his eyes sparkled -
they never deceived him then
and a door was a door, in any light.

But tonight, thirty minutes
after his downfall, he knows
that flesh and bone fails
and antiquity poisons his blood.

He hides from shame, head buried
in elbow crevices and eyelashes
soaked in saline, grazing the
fabric of a thinning sleeve.

And she's already forgotten the havoc
she wrought, pupils dilated, channels
open, searching out new victims,
a vampire in urban daylight.

Tomorrow is changed only because
she tore heart strings from today.
Tomorrow is dead, because she
slaughtered the night

and forbid the morning rebirth.

10/22/2003

Posted on 10/22/2003
Copyright © 2024 Karen Michelle