You see, when it happens

          you’ll know,

And it will feel like a  tear.

 That only drips from your

Left eye.

It will be the last time you

              Ever

    have to beg for devotion.

It tastes like rapture.

like biting your tongue

With your teeth

                   Thick rich iron in your cheek.

 

Feels, like the surface

of water, soft. The kind that

Is body temp.

Peeled, like fruit on a

Silver platter.

 

A camphine Green copper

Lantern.

Guiding you in

The afterglow,

And you

Must follow it

   Through the snow.

 

Chasing fireflies through

   dark lillied

Marsh, with the pack

  at your

Heels.

 

They ache for solid ground.

You race with rabid hounds.

 

Will you accept this fate?

Or refuse to be bound.

Everything I’ve ever loved

Had claw marks when it’s found.

 

Or will you let the dogs decide?