Chapter I: Coastline Black - Cara Neir

I don my mask in the barn where the proxy lies stone, my fingers they trace

The sun sparks high to the west bringing the light through every crack

throughout

First incision brings forth blood, though the mission’s thirst for tears must

be quenched

Mud sloshes up through his toes while dry hands pry at soft skin

Darting eyes briefly capture a glimpse of the light before the darkness

encapsulates

Poking from the throat, through the gash, her adam’s apple, tender and ripe

So I just whisper to her

And I know this is wrong.

I know it’s all wrong.

Left that night.

Twelve years later and now I know I can’t move on

All I do now is take the apples from the orphans, because I know it’s wrong

All I do now is take the apples from the orphans, because I fucking hate them

Spring returns with promise but nothing blooms

Winter spays, leaving death and black clouds to reign

Everything smells like her

Noted are the calenders that he kept

And the bobby pins once cradled by silken hair

And out there in the yard, holes that came from nowhere

He did not look down

He only closed his eyes and pitched himself into one

«He threw himself into blank holes»