by Erica Lampe
Through the bowl of eyes
I’ve come to see
Infected bones from underneath
My skin flaking off: layer by layer
To reveal
Flesh liquefying down my chest
Through the rot
Faint glimpses of a beat
Palpitations of stillness
—Maggots fall to my feet
Parasites in my sockets
Weaving in and out
Consuming my vision
‘til no site is found
A putrid aroma of sulfur and flesh
engulfs my perception
and leads me to death
