malalai khan

the flesh opens like a chasm / stretching in the shape of a broken butterfly wing / fallen spirits wake up from the damp smell of ectoplasm / and vanish into the stone // rotting, shut in a sepulcher / the eyes, drained of color / stare at the ceiling that drips / down the four walls, the four horsemen of the apocalypse / who gaze back with sharp-toothed mouths agape / swallowing the only specks of escape // nothing stirs, nothing echoes / bleached, blue bed of woes / the white marble dissolves beneath the redness / a void that grows and grows // mildew and maggots keep eating at the skin / a hollow cadaver waiting for dissection // you’re afraid of admitting you’re lonely / and it’s killing you, slowly