To embalm my destiny without aches
I permeate my homeward self
with plasmoid snakes.
They overfeed
circulating belt-lines in palms
- forewarning coax for a full-on alibi -
They extirpate entrails
half-opening with greed
non-reimbursable ingestions
into flesh’s
perdition sarcophagi.
They tenderize with venom my disworship
nailing out tears
devotedly adrip.

Thank you for this confession removal, God
I’ll also try not to uproot your grip
(inventing organs for this martyrship
might be your other ego trip.)