vanquished and defective are our bodies,
our minds, our souls.
you wear your fleshly restraints,
I bear the key.
smoke clouds the room,
strobe lights over hazel eyes.
I\'m not done with you yet,
nor my thinning mortality.
I\'m the Frankenstein of the south,
the mammal beneath the monster.
for it is your blood between my teeth,
my wound laced with stitches.
cold and alone,
my eyes are wide.
bleeding poetry and prose,
your breath is scarce.
our mangled hearts lay
in adjoining rooms.