the contents of the atlantic
are tucked behind my ear.
the other isles have oozed into my hair
parasitcally working their way down my throat
sharks rippling in my vocal cords.
bless your hands! (bermuda cries)
as they drag across my ribcage
the sculpture that harbors atlantis.
a sunken treasure
that you have resurfaced.
No one looks like a villain once dead.
There is no threat in a lifeless body,
In screaming mothers and weeping daughters.
Once exposed, his blood is no longer posion.
She was born in the radiation era,
A veil of marble covers her eyes,
Her lids webbed in waves:
They were stitched too tight
to permit the penetration
of the perpetrator.
when a star dies, it is a violent explosion.
it can emitt more light than an entire solar system.
and while it pulses with hot gas and blue light,
it slowly dims. until its remnants are scattered
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