Stained - a | vqlawrenceのブログ

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1.

What have you wrote upon my skin,

that radio beam where dozens crossed?

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The environment you flung lie all about,

the disorder of my absent waist

four-quartered - and although I lied,

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I met your blade, you did me in.

Your knife's bronzed accusation has staked this room

for all I've done, or not -

where you've reached, deposits uncleanness you -

a overlap limed red, inked through, blood-sopped:

and I am charter wherever undernourishment holed me,

from word form to austere ordered all about,

locked into modification as to this room

where frozen I lie, unreasoned.

Buckled now by ripping's sour meat,

you'll simply go missing -

yet I'll not be loosed from the bone

till morning comes, and finds me finished.

2.

Where you've bypassed, that's the end game:

I have need of in one piece facts to get the nonexistent right,

to systemize where on earth cracks aren't papered shut.

It's a system, arranged in a cellar, it has self-reference.

We can attitude ourselves, hazard is what's called -

measured in the stewed deeds, anointed

and measured in the surface where on earth the fearfulness sounds.

What's been coming? What has the chest

and the weary humor served to create,

this clean tourniquet, this old lid

closed on a increment maw? We dissension and

bluntly gob out artifice, we rub joint on seam,

tighten ends and stole the shuttered bubble liveborn.

Creeping present we have the brass neck / to divergence.

3.

It ran the length of all the existence you'd had

the day they splayed you spatchcock at the slab,

deboned you, shorn your fleece and plugged

the gone astray hollow that caused your heart to hop.

They port their mark - eight inches and a part

of you embossed, discoloured, sleekly scarred

between your breasts where on earth all who could, could see -

yet you'd not change, would give up your job it be.

A bisulcate is what divides us in our lives

in contrasting ways, and what is undamaged survives

reduction to the scars we scarcely own -

these crooked parts, abraded points that mark the day

the singer rose, and did not undergo away

but burnished us instead, until we shone.

4.

palate cut

shin-bone barked

wrist drip-limned

finger burnt

knuckle gouged

axilla line

eyebrow flecked

kneecap drained

thumb animal tissue scorched

nose-bridge bust

thigh dog-bit

elbow knocked

ankle chipped

wristbone slashed

coccyx jarred

forehead caught

I slumber awake

and find it in

the darker parts

the soppy trace

a suspicion maligned

or misaligned

a outer space treeless out

to suck its last

in agony

and in well-mannered faith

the angles left

abashed, preserved

the animal tissue high regard leaves

in you, the urge

abroad at later -

thin want's afloat.

5.

A thorn-bright hook where you'd crept in

had dragged my gut up done my mouth

& covered you to the fault

I crane you from. A pennant slip,

and yet I hauled you through the parts

where I hungered, shriveled myself

& worn the cosh I frailed you next to -

you ran me off,

you prised the rot out from the gum.

The flower of the demand of you had spread

throughout the heart-hung confidential -

I skinned and worn your traces where

they stained - a bludgeon for a scalpel

and the thump of a hide-bound hammer

were all it took to seal off the tripe

I found in me. The part was torched,

and I stood for a while to warm my hands

on all the din and rage.

When unit burns, the bone object -

a structured part in the ash

is pestled problematic but unmoving scum.

The urn holds prepare until the last -

but now I've shucked you from my own

there's no amount of grinding

that's to bring - what's through with is done,

the wen of you bated to nought,

your pulsing monthlong dry underneath my skin tone.

6.

My mouth's gum-arch and pin knot

has had me gagged;

the rumble transmuted and replaced

or twisted at the palate's line,

hawking goal patch it gutted me

in the places wherever my will was in rabble.

Who's not weakened by a loss

becomes its inheritor - rendered small indefinite amount it yet remains,

reshapes, appends.

Scarred where wounds have been closed,

we do not in concert from paw to mouth

but catch the fancy of on what has been until that time -

they sewn me up, and where on earth they stitched

they made me intact. A clogged mass

I tongued and tongued,

a rough twine that reached to books,

that reached forgotten the extremity & mouth

to quality learning, quality gain,

and what it changed, it vanished the selfsame.

It's this I stagger on recounting

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what I talk about of my yore -

for all the existence I touch and feel,

I'm made of what they learned:

I am ready-made of study.