mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli

  • Mood:
  • Music:

split, cleft, like a peach by a pit.

while i'm lying in ruins under the bed-spread, she comes in asking what that bitter smell is. i'm an ashen silhouette fallen face down from the firmament, alligator ancient, but the windows are sitting their exhaling their looking-glass foes against me. bones rattling like a piano whose wires have been clipped. cloistered in the room with all the terrors torn out of heaven with me, when the cancer mordicai was excised. all those brine-coloured things, those brakish things of this world & that. the haunting of those with one foot on each bank of the river styx. eyeless cavefish, blind to the war; fucking useless barnacles on my psyche. weighing me down with loss & hurt & phantasmagory. but let me tell you, partner; a cowboy dressed in black sure gets lucky when the little lady sharp-shooter slips into bed with him. i'll be clyde barrow if that is the pay-off, the black bag filled with money. lets not get our black bags mixed up though, darling- i've got my whitechapel jack tools in the other. along with my nautical apparatus.

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.