Dali

flashes in the dark illuminate my arrival,
wiry haired hosts scratch dirt from their nails.
blood coagulates to form puddles on a red carpet,
my footsteps follow me from the front hall
into a cavernous lair of rock and glass.
moans seep through walls, reverberating my soles,
creating pockets of death within this cell.
once living sandbags piled carelessly like useless refuse,
a door repainted guards my path from what i shouldn't see.
a passage opens, its maw swallowing me whole,
but the pieces scatter like droplets on heat.
retracting, the walls shift into scales of concrete
and the steps before me part, forming islands in the void.
the impossibility of salvation guides my direction
into a utopia whose rotting flesh welcomes
what nourishment I may have within the compartment
that has molded itself to my form and aura.
exhausted, I drop to the bottom of the cliff before me
and it's not my own hand that brings me back to this
nightmare, but the elongated, shriveled fingers of the
monster that nearly murdered me within my mind.





To The Beginning