Vulture Culture Poem by Lilli Scharnow

And it'll take what it'll take,
the bending of my bones so far that they break,
break the skin and come in contact with your face,
your face full of shards or marrow and flesh and a dying wish to be taken seriously
I'll caress you with the bloodied end of a Tibia
love is only true if it hurts
love is devouring
love is a bottle of brandy on the couch cushions
cigarettes
house fire
organs on the grill
brains in a fog
hearts on the go
if you look carefully you can find my bones scattered amongst the leaves
skeletal fingers rummaging for nutrition
The air i breathe
The blood i bleed
The thoughts i leave
All contaminated by the idea of you following my scent
How far are you
Are you waiting already?