Death of a Nihilist [poetry]

04. circadian

today, they crushed the newborns' skulls.

served it with umbilical cords

and amniotic fluids, fresh out of the sac.

the guests awaited

while the feast was laid:

umbilical cords, coiled on white china plates,

topped with blood,

finely chopped nails and sclera.

amniotic fluids, filled half-way up tall wine glasses,

frozen semen cylinders clinking within the plexiglass,

unthawing liquid nitrogen pouring out, seeking for a mouth.

hair twirled in tiny appetizer dishes

different, according to the guests' wishes.

some preferred longer, straight strands, as dark as they came.

others loved sizable ringlets, to compliment the taste of amniotic fluids.

most quite like the puffs of kinks, brushed and cared for with the highest classes.

alas, all that

was long last.

as soft bones and tender meat

left a vicious smear of mushy pink and gray

on their palms,

and blood coated their elegant fingers;

as their long, pointed nails,

punctured thin, sticky rind surrounding the skull,

spliced through exocarp,

still warm and glistened

from the heat of the amniotic sac

pinched the vellum skin of newborn brain

encasing translucent, pure gray matter.

all that was long last.

lost to

the rich taste of untainted

tears and drools,

pain and innocence

blooming on their palate.

⸻

circadian: being, having, characterized by, or occurring in approximately 24-hour periods or cycles

prompt: crush