Down
dumdum down.

Kiss out
all the evil.

Vanish, 
with its death traps.

Fraught spiky 
mournful violent gaze.

Arrested by 'the real'
treacherous and concealed.

The extension table? 
The mirror in the shower?
The chainlink fence? 

Cold case properties
weaving taboos.

Restless
scales of sorrow.

Hide the dead?
Wake the fed?

What beauty 
got itself up to.

Cruel delicate 
depths. 

Sneaking up next to it
longing 
fell in.
 
For more, 
got more, 
had more. 

The contrary
and the desolate. 

Scars itching open 
under the tongue.

A closet case 
full of toil. 

Excandescently 
leaking oil.