Leaves of Sand



Just a little love. Just something to ease the painful bones of a man at arms length with the world. No secrets, only fear. Lymph Nodes on the operating table. Drugged up and far away from pain, the horror of the day to day. It’s in the way she used to wear a short skirt. In the way her dress hitched up when she crossed her legs. One over the other with my mind unravelling with another glass of beer. Temptress. Whore. Blood red gums and hips the size of my hands. Eyes like doorways made of light. Flesh the colour of sand. She was naked the last time I saw her. Her navel swimming with my seed and the sound of the ocean making me sick seconds before I left without a word. Devil. Demon. Drinker. It’s all the same to me. So many false smiles. So many fading stars as the town burns so pretty outside my window. Chewed up and spat out by numerous wombs, my circuitry is unclean. So many roads that have never been walked. So much regret when faced with a haunting sun. Teeth plucked out like feathers; a man is only the sum of his parts. Lost like yesterday, there’s nowhere to go but a future that doesn’t belong. Like a joke with no punchline. Like a kiss as empty as the heavens above. Cut me and watch the blood trickle down my pale arm. Scratch my face and glimpse the stains on my teeth as I howl at the moon. We’ve been here so many times before, yet now it feels so final. The taste of beer and cigarettes as my mind dissolves with images of cancer and sex. Death. Death is one and all, and within the nucleus of pleasure and pain, it rules absolute. We can never escape. From birth to the slab, there’s only ignorance of the fate that controls our every move. Closer with every dream. Nearer to my God than thee.

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