For cold bones it's
The definition of humid air
In a polluted city.

Not unlike the voice
Of your last lover on your birthday,
Explaining your ill health is an S T D,
Or possibly several.

It's scarred arteries
Being freed momentarily
As their webbed chains
Are melted off by battery acid.

They then quickly bleed out:
As no surgeon can sew
Acrid holes together.

It's that feeling of false hope,
Seductive as the ways of dancers
At gentlemen's clubs always are
To the workaholic, alcoholic,
Coke addict, love sick,
And all the other kinds of
Men who are born or become broken.

Sultric is remembering sharing Shakespeare,
And then remembering why you don't read anymore.

Drinking the Kool Aid
When all you've been tasting
Is the swamp water.

by Alek Lenth

Comments (1)

cool, cool. love sick, good