Exoskeletons and impressions

The day is passing slowly
And my loathsome cry still flickers
In the winds of winding clocks.
Shattering bones like glass
The crystalline dust falls in a seductive fog.
Then slowly it gathers on the ground.
From the shimmering debris arose
The cause of
Curled fingers and clenched jaws.
The woman, the thing, the most
ghastly sight on earth,
Young children should avert their eyes.
For mine bleed with anger
And with every passing second
The pale blue almond shaped moons
Grow bigger and more bulbous
Until they nearly bulge out of her skull
And yet I do not shift my attention.
Anticipation grew as beads of sweat
Built up into glistening webs
Perching on my brows –
As if she had her way with me
My heart dropped, my shoulders eased down
The ache of white knuckles
Melted into nothing
The signs of debauchery sheathed itself away
With the fading imprints of my
Teeth being pressed behind my lips.
Then I dropped the thorn crown of pride
Then began basking in the smoldering of
Her dismal yellow skin,
I want to reach out
To run my finger through her
Tarnished silver strands of hair.
I stretched to her my eyes glinting
The inevitable truth of mortality
Set grounds as she wasn’t in a world
Known to her.
The nothingness between us filled.
The damn broke as the reservoir
Emptied with the rumble of relief
Echoing in the canyons
And in the silt which remained
Her exoskeleton shriveled
Now taking the place of what used to
Be her.