deepundergroundpoetry.com
Gaiman's gods
the sea boils and
my eyes roll back in my head,
toil dripping down my thighs
like madness
I reach for
the clotted murk
and wrest new worlds
into existence
for
you
my chest heaves
as you drag me
by my hair
to an altar built
on our verdant nightmare
and leave,
no longer able to
believe.
I am less
without your faith
than I was
when you chained me
down
ripped me open
and left me for the scavengers
for then
I could be reborn
for then
I could cover your
desire
my index finger a ghost
against your smiling lips
as they
formed the word
... again
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