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My Dark Muse
jenakajoffer

I reconstructed you from the thin hairs
 1
of my brush, from the memory of your flesh
 2
the thick blur of scar tissue.
 3
 
 
my only friend, roused by the ache in my throat
 4
your longing, sick tumult of thirst
 5
drinking from the split neck.
 6
 
 
you are loam, you are glass, acrylic;
 7
delicate face of despair, body of blood, and then
 8
 
 
nothing.
 9
 
 
you turn grey then black
 10
to white and back, leaving just this; the ghost tread,
 11
those paper-thin footsteps marking the page.
 12
 
 
and I am comforted,
 13
knowing your dark disease will find its way back;
 14
back into the bedsores and between my lips
 15
spreading itself through all those complicated reds,
 16
 
 
because you will find me.
 17
you always find me,
 18
driving your pins back into my heart
 19
up to the ink well, reminding me of all these wounds
 20
I love you for.
 21

29 Jun 18

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Comments:

lines  1 to 2 sounds like a voodoo doll is being made. lol
 — unknown

that is an excellent comment! you've given me some cool imagery, it works really well with this.
i'm going to call it voodoo now, thanks!
 — jenakajoffer

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