Upon Their Wrists

Lying there
In the rain
With skin
In slumber
Like colors
Never seen

In morbid wonder
Hand in hand
In rigor mortis

Dried blood words
Upon their wrists
That once flowed
From their lips
With forlorn sentiment
Washed away
By the water
From above
Lining the ground
With tangent
From behind
Sunken eyes

The future lost
And found again
Doomed and hidden
To be dug up
Long from now
From long ago

A story
To be told
Crawling up
Inside and out
From the mouths
Of rain soaked
Festered with worms
And forbidden love

Β©James Dennis Casey IV

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