mortis nostrae

got lost in the pattern of his shirt

lost in the rows of white shark teeth

lost in a hum, a pulse, a beat

lost when tongue met cheek

live a good life in between the days

and just lie the whole time you’re awake

he wont think you’ve learned predator and prey

and he wont see you braced for the stabs he’ll take.

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About brian black

laugh at the horror, fill the past with the future, my head lines and heart lines reach out for each other.
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