Starting Simple

We’ll start simple: 
Her fingers in your mouth.
Your leg touching her leg, where one ends another begins, flesh on flesh. 

Not skin. 

Things tumbled together, 
Where are the edges of the tumbler, 
The cutting blades of the doors in and out? 

Now more mixed: 
Not just parts anymore, 
Mulch, shredded and blended, 
A cursed frothing emulsion, foaming, 
Fat and blood, 
Your face nearly pristine in the mess, 
The tumbler still spinning intermittently, 
It’s almost all over. 

Complexity. 
Beauty.

The Grand Gnasher

The awesome gnasher, 
The great chewer, 
Craver of inequity, 
Devourer of imbalance, 

What curse do you place upon me now? 
In what way can my frail body serve you? 

My arms are shot, 
My legs can barely hold my frame, 
My heart cannot possibly circulate, 
My brain cannot come up. 

Great chewer,
Grand gnasher, 
Taker of my good intentions, 
Perverter of my purpose, 

What blessing have you taken from me? 
In what way am I buried now? 

My hands cannot dig, 
My mouth cannot shout loud enough, 
My lungs collapse, 
My spirit wails. 

Awesome gnasher, 
Great chewer, 
Craver of self destruction and sabotage, 
You have destroyed my everything.

Your Tongue

Your Tongue casts 6 foot shadows,
Your words cut holes in flesh, 
Your heart is as cold as iron, 
frozen 

and bereft.

Great Cruelty

A slow sort of violence. 
     You know the kind. 
Imagine a beam of light that strips them of their molecules one by one
        cast across their face. 
You’re screaming to make it stop
     They’re screaming to make it stop. 
There is no blood, 
    No repeated strike, 
       There is no bludgeoning, 
                 No slicing or cutting. 
                       No burning or picking, 
              Just peeling, 
       Little pieces away, 
    Excising the building blocks of your presence, 
And when all is said and done, 
     Even your influence, 
                                  Is gone.