the bathroom floor is as cold as were your fingertips
that september evening the boys first kissed
as the sun sets, they are fossilised in pompeii
ash choking the air as the morning dives in
only to wake up alone, a husk in the jaws of the beast
for the september boy is gone, he left a trace at least
locker S763
now holds the ache of heartbreak on objects of affection
mark of the beast
haunts my facade of unwavering affliction
i can stare into blue sea’s vast emptiness
and be met with medusa’s stone glare
petrifying me like the boys in pompeii
and then walk to class as if i don’t care
the bodies of pompeii, now husk-like and still
are inhabited by the souls of zombies and ghouls
one drapes around campus, still and sluggish
one’s menacing laughter carries through the halls.
their eyes may meet, once or twice a week
for a moment, zombieboy sees the boys in pompeii
but the beast struts with 3 new pieces of meat
his eyes still locked onto his rotting prey
