Poetry

It was more than 
I could take. 
The phallic paranoia. 
 
Can I come out of 
your body and kneel 
before death? 
 
Less than dark 
I dream of the nipples 
spurting out venom. 
 
A pumice raft 
of the crowd, sailing 
on the waves of narcissism. 
 
Invisible sharks 
on high seas 
open the lambs for salt. 
 
Can you eat your 
words please? 
There is nothing left on the plate.