Edgy

Edgy

Jagged edges against smooth skin
Glistening with cosmetic purity
(Like someone I knew long ago)
Saw to a withered exegesis
Of leathern cracked lines—
Splitting and resplitting—
Cutting yet more deeply in turn.

Perhaps these broken zigzags
Half-heartedly bolted forth from some senile god
Of the sterile blue expanse of Day
Which immodestly covers apprehension of night:
An azure gown, half-open and rotting,
Draped over a pulsing ebon phallus
Dripping with something like truth.

Cracks and jagged edges
Made of cracks and jagged edges
Ever begetting each other,
World without end,
All the way down to the broken source of all
Which smarts eternally, sawing away
At its own shocking countenance
But ever failing to find an end.