brittle 'no' like a teather,

riotous blood and dead weather, 

steam and cog alike in Congress,

emulations of embrace, flipped sideways,

handshakes of covered mouths and scared, streaking mascara: 

dyed sensuous, brimming with ruin and ruse.

regret: 'baby won't you be my muse?' 

 

cold, deep as dark

spreading, sprawling climax

in a wardrobe of betrayed memories

stinging asphalt scabbed kneecaps, dragging death from the long dead.

scents of familiar leather, daydreaming of wearing thicker skins than mine.