go to bed the priests are dead
monstah mahn
the heart beats involuntarily
but how can you be sure
unless you press
the odd hand to it
once or awhile?
who are you to tell me
that i'm not yet dead?
^^^^^^-^-^---^^^------
useful claw begins
to split among party lines--
how could i be sure
when that whiter white
of calcium's cracked into
a grime deposit--
no matter how i've
scrubbed? made all the more weak by
compulsive cleaning--
when a tool becomes
a nuisance--what do i then?
for i'll be sure to
take with me teasings
and bits of his residue
and clipped fingernails.
i just ache to hear from you...: reflectingoddess@mailcity.com