deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tummy Side Up, Tummy Tucked
In dreams, I wallow, bend, and catch a shadow
the living calligraphy of my longhand's grotesque
with sweet memories of your kiss sealed in delirium
hearing winter's wind whistle waltzing on my bones
and skulls of doves invoking the silent feeling, that,
I am not alone, touched by the centipede, crawling
about the anatomy of my decaying flesh depositing
embryos on my soon-to-be-forgotten calligraphy
pulling the foreskin over my grave dripping gore
tummy side up, tummy tucked appetite, circumfixed
by a rusted saw-bladed scalpel
the living calligraphy of my longhand's grotesque
with sweet memories of your kiss sealed in delirium
hearing winter's wind whistle waltzing on my bones
and skulls of doves invoking the silent feeling, that,
I am not alone, touched by the centipede, crawling
about the anatomy of my decaying flesh depositing
embryos on my soon-to-be-forgotten calligraphy
pulling the foreskin over my grave dripping gore
tummy side up, tummy tucked appetite, circumfixed
by a rusted saw-bladed scalpel
Published 10th Mar 2023
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