Drink it; it's Pepsi.

darkness cuddles you tighter than your faith

there is no ticking. there is no golden window.

heavy eyelids surrender to the aroma of lovely bones

which suffocates you more than his hand did when

you tried to run.

Her parting gift wafts about the echoes of her help me's

She speaks to you in sour rot,

voice as rich as the juice anointing the bottom of a dumpster

She entertains you with dry corneas

dry food beckoning colonies

memorise the rasp from your prepubescent larynx

vomit is a bitter flood.

marry your trembling nails to your trembling palms

witness how the rats chew the pre-k earlobes

of your dead Sister on the ground beside you.

ٔ.