Undead

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The moon glazes on the shadows of your face:

3am and you look like you’re barely breathing.

The blinds rattle from the animate wind

that now catches,

in between your hollow porcelain bones.

The air blows around you, echoing my love:

through the shattering ribs –

that once held your beating heart.

They fall like glassy diamonds in my palm:

crawling into my veins, are your maggots.

And I know you’re alive,

because I have licked

the dust

from the socket of your eyes.

And as you dream,

you smile beneath the layers of my hair.

As if you knew I was the one.

 

 

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