mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

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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.
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