The White of Bones

White as

The canvas I stretched

Across a fractured frame,

You lay motionless;

Suspended in the notion

Of a guiltless blame.

Could have sworn

It wasn't me that sipped your


From a martini glass and

Left you drained; and

It was

Hardly a bite, what I

Tore out of

You, so why


For rescue?


You were the long dead


Carcass, whatever.


On a trail leading up a

Hill, I saw you

Broken apart beyond

Rationality. The world

Held still

As I slipped through

The stench, tasted

The festering waste that

We were.

Even now, I caress

A skeleton

Between the layers of

My consciousness.