It's as rigid as a lunar sequence
and our months contract around this events.
The silence that floods out of your room.
The perversely common image of you with one arm dangling.
Hesitate and the skin won't break
it just leaves a map of anguish on your wrists.
Vials tipped so the contents slip.
A Marat pose. This monstrous art.
Hesitation marks.
We have urns lined up on bookshelves.
We've split up in shifts for bedside vigils.
An epi-pen in every coat.
We've amassed an arsenal you've absorbed with your cruel vanity.
Hesitate and the skin won't break
it just leaves a map of anguish on your wrists.
Vials tipped so the contents slip.
A Marat pose. This monstrous art.
Hesitation marks.