Fault [3]

His touch slips
I cling
With neither fingers nor limbs
But the heart grips
Silent scream
And bile alike rise up
In the throat a scorching
Which tears cannot quench
The frenzied dance does not
I cannot breathe

And all around not mustard trees
But barren figs
Dancing, toss in cruel wind
A circle, they form
A cage
Two pairs of fiery red eyes burn
And set the trees aflame
Angry crackles and flaming branches
Scorch my cheeks as I whirl and leap
In his eyes I catch
That wretched reflection of mine
The pretty face had no eyes or ears
Nor hair, a heavy lump of clay
But just a mouth a gaping split
The tongue not tame but serpentine
Hissing, spitting
While a heart
Hard as rock, not beating but cracking

And God looks down with furious eyes
But I can not see Him

The man is gone
The rock-hard heart is gone
And I lay, panting
My body parts dismembered
No longer new but merely blood-stained shadows
Disarrayed about the floor
And yet I feel their whispers their glares
Your fault. Your fault.

This story has no comments.