Synthetic ConsumedThe room looks sterile despite the rotted smell. There’s something sickly underneath the bleach that’s been poured on the floor of scattered green and blue tile. A bloody nose of a floating head. “My insides are falling out!” of a prolapsed rectum. Everyone smokes. A curtainless window and a sheetless bed. Dark voices whispering to synthetic consumed brains a murderous refrain. A song that doesn’t end save the end of a rope. A woman hides in the floorboard of her car, away from it. It RisesDance to sculpt the air, from can’t see morning to can’t see night. Swing hair back and forth until it’s greasy with sweat, whipping bare the sounds of denial. Rhythmic blood flows on down the river, doesn’t fight the banks. Beats seeping down into soil. The ground isn’t level, quaking. It rises, the swollen earth up to dance free with the atmosphere. It rises, the red river blood pulsing in hearts of ash, wet coal. VulcanHe plays with his hair on fire; the rainmaker, the man of the hour. A fiery ocean wave rolling through space, consuming oil varnished tides. He collapses in tree tops and starts a forest blaze. His fly trap catches Venus in its clutches, tenderly at first before digesting the whole of her until they are one flesh. He stokes the coals as he tends fields, leaving dollops of fire in his footsteps. Venus follows to stomp them out before they spread far. Their volcanic staircase spirals to the heavens. Metal and ore for weaponry, works in progress gleam in his quirky face, smiling. A Veilslightly frosted sky, as a cake,
with see through veil, a wedding day in the heavens a dream-like love, a connection so deep, layers never to peel, lost on open eyes and waking, sunlight quivers and reflects off leaves in trees to make me nauseous beauty too much for my inward man to digest, a sky too bright for my dry hands but watching still for signs of him hiding in the clouds, from my dreams that are not real
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