Lace
The entrails
These
Wounds
Will remind me
That
We were conceived
Formed
In the same womb
We shared the drape
Like a glowing, incandescent stencil
Guidance pathway
To nausea
Scorching potion flowing
And dripping from my blood
Vessels
In a constant search for more
Cluttered train of thought
Wandering through the desert of trial after trial
A servant being absorbed
Into the maw
Of
The
Engraver
All the shame
All the pain
All the shame
All the pain
Is engraved in my skin