I looked at what resembled

A pile of sticks covered with putty.

How could I empathize

With such a pathetic soul?

It lay with so little so subtle a breath

How could I stand

In pure health and pity?

The powderflesh frame

Was yet to be mine.


I kneeled down aside the corpse

And gently slacked the brittle jaw.

So putrid a smell, a noxious stench

Released itself, and death escaped.

In spite of the stench, I inhaled deeply

And exhaled my breath of life

Into the rotting lungs.

Published in: on April 23, 1995 at 3:37 am  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , ,

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://noranoir.wordpress.com/1995/04/23/powderflesh/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: