Fruit of Hades

My body and soul detached from the spine that weaves them sinks and floats, respectively, with no direction. My painful coughing of blood and exhaustion become my release in these times of slavery and no affection. The washed out violet and pink rainfall marks the end of a season, and triggers the ripening of the once rotten fruit. This is the fruit that I grow in vain, that walks on all four with blood-dimmed iris’ and sour juice. He walks on my back and bruises my collection of bones. Heavenly martian fruit take my soul, take my “I love you” and make it whole. Let the bliss of conclusion lick my senses and blind my possibilities, for I am now your loyal servant, forever grateful and willing. Don’t take it too violently or too soft, just surprise me with your grace of opportunity; be it through bitter serendipity or cloying cotton happily. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget. Take it nonetheless, do not forget.