Quite disturbing,
the wrinkles on skin. We drink
days of acid, breathe in our regrets
that flit about like angry black
smoke around us.
When do we become bodies
with no music? Bodies that can merely
add more rotten tissues and tendons
to the universe, bodies that
no longer know how to shed tears,
only bile and grave wax, instead.
It’s quite disturbing,
the shaking of our ribcages, and
light hissing farewell through our ears,
as we leave our lungs behind,
overshadowing the glow
in the eyes.
Underground, one could hear
bones crack into nothing.
