+++
title = 'Tearblood Iridescence Poem'
date = 2024-06-03T10:54:43-04:00
draft = false
tags = ['poetry']
+++

{{< poem >}}
Stiffly resting with the death I know that degradingly grips the Seventh Heaven of tortured rust.
That borrowed flesh, quasi-conversing in metronome breaths, necromanced with chance like a stereo metal pipe dream.
The thoughts I have when I can't get the amnesia tones out of the radiator.
Fear it is, when that midnight grievance puffs your polluted veins to sound pounding freight trains.

I was ridden with tearblood iridescence
When I entered the room of Presence...
But now I can taste essence.
{{< / poem >}}