the first cells bloated soft structures swelled a trapped nerve ending or
maybe sinews tightening around cartilage or a sphincter something the juices
escaping the burnt walls catching a little nothing much to notice then later
some diarrhoea and vomiting a little dyspepsia after rich food then before
you know it a feeling that parts of you just don't fit and a show of blood
it's really coming from your guts but that's the end just taking centre
stage as you watch your kids or your neighbour's kids and start crying for
fuck knows what reason as the telly farts in the corner the roads still grey
and the sky grey but the stink of things heightened and the cells walls
suddenly all other all else and the body space shrinks and keeps shrinking
as a few knocks come on and the pain settles the heady weight loss begins
the long long walk to bones to dust to a pane of grass a shiny unkempt stone
spinning out of the extinct future in a cool pool of unwatched stars
spinning and spinning in the waste as the nova blooms like a match head and
all the shingles and haemorrhoids and tight incisions and tears the wet
sheets and catheters seem tableaux of seem governing seem ending ending as
it all could perhaps have perhaps if not this then another the other
bothering to pick through fending some of it off touching one time just a
simple touch the one time a turn a little lifting of that hair simply a hand
but nothing really mattering a stain in the end fleshing it out but words
nostalgia not mattering as a breath shrinks and rasps once again the rose
hip juice kept down another hour or then the old words crushed
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