Again, message from L. Subject: his letters
were not lost or no less lucid and corrupt.
No more than trails of dust, his livid torso a creature,
cultish and furious.
Date: June 20th, 10:31:14 PM To S.
There was one who reached into the zipper, one
who yellowed at the root, there was
one who grabbed the boyish neck and twisted it into liver.
There was one who fed on choking.
There was one who smelled of dirt,
one who read like a prayer.