|
you become the undertaker when i flirt with death
by Aaron Blair
you turn your face from it,
this arm that wishes it were
a severed limb, full of veins
like blood grenades,
waiting to pop open.
you turn your face from me,
this girl who wishes she were
a blue-white corpse,
a body turned mannequin
by death lust and rigor mortis.
they turn their faces from us,
these lovers who wish they were
more than an undertaker and
his ever dead but not desire,
trying to outdance the worms.10/31/2003 Posted on 11/01/2003
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 11/05/03 at 02:42 PM i'm constantly floored by you. definitely going to have to read it again. o.O *tilts her head.* i'm with gabe, the ending line is golden. |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 11/06/03 at 12:41 AM Exquisite. Absolutely amazing. Knocked me right out of my shoes. |
|
