it's not yours

a something stolen, like a kiss that felt to be something more lingers. in the mind, turns to the heart, claws her way in to the core, the altar of sacrifice is an idol that looks like me. robbed, a something taken not mine visibly shaken when the earth is shaky, heels dig in and they can no longer come out for the stain has reached the altar of me, carving myself into something i am not of nightmares dressed in day dreams it is easier to pretend, to have make belief than to seize the sacrifice to be made, of dreams turning to dust. why not you? a reverse engineer logic, of destiny, of paradoxes when some lunches become golden calves, others shrunken goats, with meat so thin might as well be just skin and skin cannot fill the soul, leaves it bereft even when denial comes from lips not mine, a stranger grasping to pull himself out of trenches, stuck, dig, sink. till the mind is lost, the soul wanders, the skin has become flesh caving in to the next quick peck that feels like a kiss, is not. deeper, darker, more dangerous till the sands they tumble upon one old back whose sack is of many corpse grabbed from living grave stones, where the living gets buried, take, rob, devour. these are the words of the dark, the shadow has come alive with night giving movement, life till dreams turn once more into wings of death, flying, relishing all the goods taken to be real only because belief made them so! the core melts, the heart trembles, like the earth with sands reaching out to cover this face and a twitch, a cough, a gasp of what was never mine.