Flowering Leper

 Of amen, godspeed- the teary wisps of a final adieu, and then: the warm, burning zigs- which cleave deeply with loving stroke; the embrace after far-along absence; gentle arms that won’t let go.

 Neither or have I felt so; a blank supreme, a white-cast blinding; voracious, a glim that smolders the flesh off me.

 How can it find me? Shoveled the dirt- for bare hands cut deep, stretching onward into fathoms a thousand feet.

 To myself I scream, “No one can reach me now!”

 Reverb, castle crashing- fuming out the nests like smoke; and to me they go, sweet ambrosia- their jaws salivate, straight marching on with zilch remorse; centipedes, worms- maw with glee, making me bleed.

  Drunk off the nectar red- they jimmy on, and tear away- every bit of my actor clay; I’ve played the part worse than any other, un-human- with nothing left to mend, I’ve torn out my innards- and fled- fled- fled.

 The pupils roll, frictionless- brakeless, foul desertion as they pop and spin, hollow and weightless- the swarm flickers on a line of words to say, ”Oh- how empty, a shell he must have been!”

 Void, the caverns within my bosom- vacant, spacious- the festering deans, with their castle queens- take heed and bring themselves all into me.

 All to see! A carcass, fathom-deep- turned into worm meat!