Our heart, our face,
eternal chessboard–
checkmate.
Deathform potion meddler,
and windowless summer burner...
Lovers in memory trees will dangle
when nothing better to do.
Scorn.
Loyalty.
Heaven frosted hair soothes rickety
star nerves in fish-skin lacing.
Softly calibrated vengeance
find its way to infect lonely viruses.
Black geometry,
whisper what was told
eons ago when we last met
for the first time–
No. No makeup, please–
your skin still looks flawless to me.
"Slime Coat" Copyright © 2014 by D. Wickliff
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