Stained

I followed the stain home.

-

Brain leaking, came home

in the heat and heard the dial

tone — an image of a faceless body

-

swimming in the sea — so much is still

left to be atoned. There was nothing

much to see,

an incomplete me, a shadow, lurking

in your nothing, discussing nothing in particular,

a white noise murmur.

-

Insects scuttle by, searching for places to hide.

-

A house nearby is on fire. I still

remember the funeral, the dreadful feeling, the church

spire. Defeated, uninspired. Stuff my

limbs into a black suit, and

drag my body along.

-

Cattle prodded lethargy, sleepy

sounds outside, we stayed awake and

let the crickets hide. I followed

myself home

and found I had no home left.

-

Hot rubble, the pot

bubbled

and told a half a hundred lies.

-

I lean back, searching, crawling,

terrified,

hands desperately grasping, trying to look behind

this disguise that I’d created.

-

The skies looked on and laughed,

its creation suitably

cyclic, boiling in its sickness,

flame kissed.

-

The mood remains the same,

an out of sight mankind,

facial recognition scan

turned up nothing but more questions.

Everything unknown,

but somehow undefined.