Carcass Poem

Held in this burnt morning
I bleed.
Christen me with your crimson sky,
the edges scar my skin.
Stretched out limbs lie loose,
submissive in succulent shade.
Fierce, invisible, natural weapon
that cuts a silhouette in my flesh.
A concertina pattern hangs from a sinewy vein,
banished from a body.

The scorched heart blisters in a shrivelled carcass.
Hot blood dries.
My eyes beat and melt, in humid silence
I plead.