S’has eyes like death, this zombie girl
and hair like an ebony spiderweb
(dark as guilt or darker still
as loneliness on a Winter’s night),
with eternal snow falling timeless –
pure and white as innocence (forgotten) –
against these bleeding windowsills
(constant embers burning heaven)
and the world becomes tundra
to the dying (lament the dead) when
fortune kisses the improbable.

This porcelain shade of Neptunian birth,
burning the innocent with desire,
(her hand like salt to a frozen heart)
speaks voiceless to me
from beyond the ether of forever,
dead that stares at everything
(can you see the colors?) with apathy
from void of nihilistic dreams.

Turning she flies and I’m alone,
no warmth from death to melt
the infinity plummeting around me
with the Universe’s patient speed.
Empty, I float to see again
the candle through the window frame
where God is buried,
and whisper to the farthest star,
"I’ve never seen a more beautiful corpse."

09/23/2001

Posted on 09/23/2001
Copyright © 2025 Gary Hoffmann