the cold thump when all goes dark exquisite convulsions on the bed open yer mouth and it pours out my donation of hot lead

i trace the mounds on yer body still warm – though by every which measure yer dead – traced those burrs with my finger yer lips curled

now you are transformed – how the dry wind howls in yer hollow chest – dinnae cower the heat – for it will melt you down

lay down now and let yerself be embraced – the cold arms of night pull you away – you taste but dinnae swallow

[100 words]

https://stacker.news/items/1091724