an autopsy.

the last number is dialed by shaken painted nail
they come as quickly as they can.
a ship brought to port, sinking by the sip (first soul-mates having taken a dive.)
the sirens call me forth; to be tied down
the hospital brings their beds with them
sleeping tighter than I ever have before.
drain the fluids. flaccid tissue hangs upon a gossip gurney
where words are exchanged through latex/
and hardly kept to themselves
fingered for the last time-
hold your breath. the stench reclaims the remains
(we would always return to the scene. the criminal and the actress)
she powders her nose
the onlookers gasp//but can we believe our eyes?
love and her lacerations line the loin
pecks and points of purge point themselves out
the dotted lines 'round the right breast
ivory skin china cold, their beauty preserved
but only for the time Being.
the scalpel sees to it that we are cut of the same cloth
each contusion immaculately carved,
she the statuette finally
matched only by our impatient graves
the marble rivaling my chiseled chin
a stitch in time saves nine, however
it all adds up from here.( we weren't so lucky. )
the culprit and the coverup lay side by side
but are filed in separate cabinets
their case closed
in the flesh
(one last look//with eyes sewn shut)
and she tagged upon the toe
from the last time we are dated
that (jane) doe look in her eye
I, merely in the headlights.
and yet the heart still beats
fragile pieces mending in time
signatures and bars
tracing back to the originating scene
the lines still crossed
old tapes torn down
and the spaces chalked up to where we would lay
but we have found our separate hideaways
having gotten away with it.
the plot thick as theives
truly taking this to their graves.

the results come back in
tested. failed by time-
"it seems they did this to themselves."
"no harm done then, I suppose."
they'll say they had it coming.
You are by far the most original writer here, and even so your writing has hints of Cummings, Yeats and Eliot. This was a great piece, like most of the pieces you have posted here. There was so much chaos here but somehow you had it all tamed and made a theme within it as well. I also liked your word choices; they really did set the mood for me. There were so many memorable lines here that it's quite pointless for me to pick them out, but there were some lines that I wasn't really a fan of "she powders her nose
the onlookers gasp//but can we believe our eyes?", I think that these lines could easily be emitted.

I really enjoyed the ending of this poem, it really was a devastating end to a truly intriguing piece. I might be back later for more comments on this, but these are my initial thoughts. A wonderful, wonderful piece Alex.