Trauma Hotel


navy cotton straps
at four points
leash her to the rails
shackle in the bed

the needle parade
draw doses up
grease those screamy wails
ravel un coma said

and the bonds,
we drew them taut

the diameter of blackness
a daub, an oil drop
leaches white, ink far wide
spread out her marble stare

those milky globes
a flickering neon vacancy
minkish hide when we pry
guests ‘round sorrowed chairs

and the bonds,
we drew them taut

captors in a ring
rows of neat vanilla
our throats full of alto drones
unheard, rumors awash, the doted lady

she ne’er sensed us
in those yoked and bound days
our ghost in hallowed tomes
hunger, knew her loss, in utter totality

and the bonds
she never fought
o’ the bonds
we drew them taut

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