begins the necrotization of the flesh.
An oxygen thief that paints tell tale signs;
the lips thinned to two navy blue lines,
and the crescents of ash at the base of each nail
where once was white and healthy. All
for a rush of blood from the heart to the head,
thumping in the neck. A cock, soft, lolled
and bouncing in time to each thrust. An arse
that opened easy as a tub of meat paste.
Orgasms that bump up against one another
like fantasies mixing with acts in the ether
of dreams that smoke from these brown bottles.
The final tautening muscle. The screams. The wobbles
that tumble us from sheets onto floors
where we gaze into a gasping air pierced with stars.
