Bones

Some variance in measure has been collected
in the winter of my heaven's gate

for the wicked, for the wild,
for the judged so full of hate...

i will fold her bones into nice tidy piles
place them alongside the others
in an empty corner of my room where my mind no longer goes
where darkness, where nothing grows

just a spoonful of marrow
and a shot full of shadow
behind a framed fading image of her life in the throes of a beautiful deathcurl
i will seal my fate
swallow her whole
smearing her chalky white paste
across the barb-wired memories
writ across my smoking face

i will rise for you
from deep within you
to love you
to destroy you.