a womb with a view, act IV – degradation


eight legs in the darkness, the hint of venom on tiny fangs, the ridges of vertebrae in curved repose

what moves in the shadows under the bed, in the closet, beneath the sheets

the icy hand grips, chokes, gently caressing exposed flesh

fear is all in the mind

but mindless terror delves deep from the soul, hollow boned


huddled masses yearning to be free of each other

glandular juxtaposition

bile rising in insipid bursts of hope, incandescent glowing as the thin wire cracks in pragmatic decay

cyclic superheating enforces molecular cracking, the whole becomes weaker with every frantic flipping of the switch

seeking salvation in scurrying from the light


constant pressure each grain of sand once a shell, a home, sanctuary

now granular dissonance

every mote of dust shed from the entropic chaos inherent within every living creature

the bones of the earth a constant recycling of death

everything returns to the precious commodities that man kills man over without thought to the bitter irony of it all


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