Lesson Learned.

If I could peel back the skin
and crack open your ribs, snap them
clean off, like the brittle bones of a
long dead carcass..
What would I find, behind
the flesh that spared you transparency?
A heart?
Or a blackened and charred lump
that’s smell would confirm the
image your eyes gave away?
The soulless walking dead,
with perfect teeth and a
charisma and relentless stamina.
Charm, brains and a fetish untold;
a penchant for pain, and the
infliction of the afflicted?
Your hands bruised me, and my
hands stroked your face
whenever you said
sorry.