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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1788352
More ramblings.
Ague runs through this vessel
and steers me off course.
Joints stiff, aching in time
with the crashing waves of beaded sweat
pooling on my brow.
Crowning my head with salty pearls
and diamond encrusted cheeks.
The tempestuous darkness claws me into furrows of worry
deep set in a wax skull
warping to the flickering flame, sagging with the heat and dripping sweet

the insipid moon rattles out in death throws
as God dresses himself in daylight
it pinches at the seams and frays at the collar, patched and darned
damned to this church of disrepair
my eyes tear apart.

he spits the fabric for his fox
and calls him a priest stitching him in black.
Sunshine seems distant and strained cast from his eyes set with rubies
hungry and bloodshot
he look out through the bullet hole
and sees only one golden child
his only son spread with a lone grin
woven of word.

Insanity overflows from the cusp of the chalice passed on
red wine staining their thinning lips
flesh drawn over black holes
a universe collapses, and the stars peeter out as the church burns
to nothing.

Blink and it's gone, come along
Fret later, when the ashes sing on the wind and dance into your room.
The red embrace of chemical womb
string out the bodies, string out the dreams
and watch them develop into rotting carcass, infested with maggots

Blink.
And your home.
© Copyright 2011 R.A.Wilson (robyn.wilson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1788352-Gods-in-the-Closet