Rust, residue of nissl stain on lips, on fingertips-
You have been talking to him again,
Neglect of the eyes, crow feather skin.
....................................................................You promised.
The voice that shivers,
Or talks in adjectives and colours,
The girl in red- deep breaths deep breaths-
Is it them?
Flies, fat and filled like hanging pearls
That attach jealously to the edges of the mouth
That curls, again, over your ears- no, deeper
Deeper still?
Stop, he pleads- No more,
Iccarus,
No more. The hand is held flat-
Slapped, or empty
The gold is fake, flakes, off the corner of your eyes-
Watch them turn to moths, birds, that burn
Or reflect
The higher they go.
Blue pill, red pill, no pill
What is real, what is you,
As you talk to them again.
You promised.
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