Poetry

It was not your body, 
but blood was on the wall. 
 
Inhale the stench of the day. 
Grim scene, the multiple kisses 
of marrow and flesh. You were 
not drawing him, inviting- 
 
him tonight for a date, 
but the fetch was on the wall. 
 
From, to turn. Put a starfish 
in my bowl, to play. There was 
a guest waiting at the door. Will 
not abuse your lock and key. 
 
Crawling, groping, darkness descends. 
But there was a light on the wall.