writing – Kelly Huntson

Over my lips run

sweet spots, thirsting.

Murmurs release

disappear at my touch

head tipped, drains

the pulse of blood

warm, red

ear still pressing

listens;

each loud noise inaudible.

Not even a breath spills.

Fingers on my throat

desire for me to choke

false life or real death

choose.

Do not lift the slimy veneer.

Do not search beneath.

Truth is:

Fraudulent conduct

infection manifest

into the body

the profit worm turns

sub-human, generating

trickery its key

spend, renew, grow;

but a good parasite

does not kill its host, so…

what was I talking about again?

*originally published April, 2021

If you kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, you cannot get more golden eggs