My heart is a vampire; he sucks blood
from my torso until he surfeits, chokes and spits.
A disguisting scene to see.
My lung is a gory moth gnawed by acrophobia;
It does not fly high like Bishop's winged pet,
but keeps me twitching on the ground.
My stomach is a leech salvaging what little leftover
the vampire spares. It would be funny to see them
quaffing each other's blood.
My intestines are coils of serpents. They represent
neither good nor evil, neither beginning nor ending.
Sorry for your mantra or symbolistic poetry.
After all these you may comment that my body is
a spooky menagerie, but isn't it weirder to
compare the soul to a mate that never calls?
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