whoever is not a mind sucks me in

a beast-like thing

shaking off the past as residue

my resin, the end of the feathered glories

guilt-ridden always fear desire, they told

is stinking fleshy gunpowder

pinkish but explosive

BAM

as thoughts melt, I corporal

I, who live in the absence of a true life

turn to a black fiend, held tight, leashed

only as the night pushes in white on, white on

unleashed

youth is an accessory to death

a choking neckless to a dark mistress

slowly reeling me in breathless

confidently wordless, she grins and soothes

faces

wearing fur as a reminder of her fury

animal masking as unwinding, the mortal coil

an excuse to live and walk all walks of life

to wet reproduce nights

only to let me sip

mouth half full, half empty

I’m an apparatus

for the flesh-monger life 

who nudges me to the strenuous  

dark night of the soul

while it matters

saint something, say something

like me vile

whoever minds sucks me in

image: Julia Soboleva