necrosis

necrosis

seeking my own council
watching clock that only tics for me

writing the dirge to be sung by a silent voice
on my passing

lest I forget
I am not this flesh, these words, or the vow of chastity
I have broken again and again

freelance pedestal of light
illuminates a lost cause

while
perfection glances at its own
faults

counting them on fingers and toes
of amputated limbs
still warm
as necrosis sets in.

vcp

30 November 2010