Let the holes burn (on your heart)
and ascend to
a terminated cloud
of poisons. First the
poisons
encapsulate you in your
warm
“safe”
place
seizures, evicted,
banished to
nonexistence
with the other two.
Let the holes burn (on your heart)
impregnable,
inconsolable you
staring beyond heaven
to
grassed grouping of
carved marble
eulogies, stillbirth
litanies howling from cherub
lungs,
hymns of smoke,
memories of
three
gone, passed away
without a grave.
Let the holes burn (on your heart)
the flame run its
course
down pulmonary nexus
I, thou, let the holes
burn
on my heart.
Eventually must suffice
everything you’d want
to say
if I gave you a shot
at life, can be said
by you right here &
now:
.
<3
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