ON TAQUATO LAKE...
...he sits beside himself -
a lurid frenzied shade
His stammering heart
contorted and flailing,
unreal and yet realized -
in every tortured cog interring wild thoughts
dawdling to early decay.
The tender blow of cinder flakes
funnels the umber mists of fireflies up and away
her crisp death mask imprinted
in the gasoline soaked brittle bon’,
languid last expulsion of campfire,
cannibalizing her tender vestiges.
In the pit of his manic exhilaration;
her fiery cessation at midnight
narrowly peeks through
the hangman’s noose -
charring scorned lover-wisdom
acquired too late
and lain brutal
upon unsuspecting flesh
on Taquoto Lake.