Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 26, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

08-26-05 friday 10:48pm

dark and dirty thoughts beguile. close the cocoon. clip the wings of the butterfly.

it has no color in its skin. it has no change to offer in its flight.

only graves spun of flaxen chambers. and lies it told itself as it dug.

sound loses its harsh imprint. time solidifies. now that the end has come everything before it more real because.

it's just a shell. where it went to become. there are no bright colors. no metamorphosis. there's just the dead thing inside the coffin it spun.

8-26-05 11pm friday

turn the darkness over. see its belly exposed. touch me. i am open.
needing to know.

the cortex of solitude. the apex of alone.

that which i swallow i am swallowed by.

i taste the waves every night and wait.

wait for the day when they'll find the mercy in their heart to drown
me.

they are no longer. and i. i am always.

until.