not-so-Vincent

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 Staking the Viper


I contradict the profound simplicity
Of the words:
She. Is. Gone.

Her laughter is bottled in my soul.
A gift
A precious torture
My only elixir for sanity

Hoorah. For. Sanity.

There is another bottle
Filled with the tears
I cry for her

Here. Uncork it.
It's Holy Water.

One swallow
Would plunge me
To hell
For the blasphemy

The diamond:
She held my hand
And said,
"How beautiful!"

I should have cut
My finger off
And given it to her
Right. Then.

Our Last Supper:
While she could still
Laugh.
Swallow.
Breathe.

I swear to the gods on the mountain:
I will hunt down the viper
That crawled inside her body,
Choking the soul that saved mine

I will have it staked before me

I. Will. Devour. It. Alive.

Miserable son of a bi*ch!

Why her?
Why her!

Why. The. Righteous?

from Alabaster Box
September, 2010







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