darkest memory

in my dark, in my
most moist gelatinous membranes
i feel, what i feel for you, in the dark,
before a punch, before a drunken stupor,
even when we bleed. dark smiles,
shut eyes, dead minds, hearts, we feel.
we felt once, long ago, humans.
before the christ, before the fall
and the false redemption. in my,
in your death throes, the flailing, the
meaningless end of existence. moments
of pity and sympathy, felt outward-in,
upon every single surface a smudge.
left alone, a heart in the dark, smudged
with tiny pricks of life. simple patterns,
out of the darkness of pre-creation,
recreated randomly for the enjoyment
of all. each in blossom, in decay. the
flutter of lost souls creating a wind upon
the cheek as they softly leave the evening ether
into the unprotected darkness of the night.