farewell, cassandra
they found her blue-lipped, wide-eyed-wild
raging hot: claimed fever-dreams, her drugs,
skin ravaged purple, a junkie's pox. her words
mean nothing, her body less.
but still
you trace her through the sheet: the arcs
of roman nose and collarbones, the wasted skin
had shadowed honest words. this late Cassandra
sang songs of fear and hunger most forgot.
they sink into your bones, and you will not.
(reconsiders it over ice cream. is pretty good. *submits*)
(edit: written for
elisem's 'nine things about oracles'. Artpost is here: original inspiration/jewelry is here.)
raging hot: claimed fever-dreams, her drugs,
skin ravaged purple, a junkie's pox. her words
mean nothing, her body less.
but still
you trace her through the sheet: the arcs
of roman nose and collarbones, the wasted skin
had shadowed honest words. this late Cassandra
sang songs of fear and hunger most forgot.
they sink into your bones, and you will not.
(reconsiders it over ice cream. is pretty good. *submits*)
(edit: written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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Whoa. Okay, wow. A whole story in this thing.
I'm not worthy.
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