moonrotten
Published in
Dec 29, 2023
moondrenched rotten
i play my ribs like a xylophone
tapping on the tines
the vibrations hold me
because you won’t
i tilt my face to the sky
closed eyes against the burn
even starlight is too strong
illuminations on this heart
find only smoke
on the table rests a peach
flesh caving in
and frosting with feather-soft mold
i rest my chin on my arms
and watch
who am i here?
whose night is this?
is there an ache in my chest
if there is no one here
to feel it?
