pristine dinner arrangements
earlier that evening
post-poned by a shattered sliding door
and the breaking point
was at one AM
around back
sharing a fix with lucifer
the original sin
of getting less than you bargained for
and it’s all okay
that god is dead
how we’re the ones responsible
we just did what we had to do
in this mercy killing of the century
because we know the feeling
where it’s a little too hard to breathe
there’s plenty of seductive air
thrusting the body to this ridge
with a head too afraid to let go
of that weird pain
harbored privately
with a serpentine texture
hissing gently
at the ones that don’t deserve it
and it fights in the eternal crusade for happiness
biting hot and cold
a custodian of the forecast
snickering as we use chalk
to outline the bodies of snow angels
warm-blooded creatures emitting frost as currency
dinner will be served by morning
