How tender I must have looked
to preying dark eyes
inhaling their own
body bud scent
My white lips were thin
but young and unspoiled
and she had met with already
so many spoiled men
I would awake a captive
with blue eyes inviting
asking direction
(taking it where?)
She rotted me quick
when she finally did
carving out pink guts
leaving a real good waste
My straw yellow crown
went dark then to dirt
grown numb at the tongue
heavy loss ’round the gums
My robbed breath rued
her look left askance
And I stood up a corpse
for some time now