On top of him thighs under arm pits
Silently stabbing at his flesh of jello
Like a fishermen pulling a large hook from
A beached whale-
With two hands bathing in the warmth of wet crimson-
I am filled with life as the other beneath me fades.
Its dark, yet there is light.
A cross hangs, blood flows-
Salvation and extermination.
I rise leaving faded foot prints.
“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ?”

Photo:Under Ground, Azarel