::Iona::

Your bony fingers stroke my hair
and snag in the twisted strands.
I recoil from your putrid breath
as you lean into me.
Flies congregate where you are,
and you are where I am.
You smile knowingly,
because I am yours.

::Lucid Quest::

Cataclysm
My white-hot finger pierced the universe,
and now the black hole threatens to swallow itself,
turning my galaxy inside out.
I claw at the stars,
tear the blanket sky.

Stillness
Buzzing light,
snapping latex,
clanking scalpels and retractors
announce the beginning of my dissection.

Disquietude
I burrow with the beam
into the pit of my stomach.
Watch me
deconstruct,
reconstruct,
uninstruct
this reprobate miscreant.