Last words,
last thoughts,
days all exhaust, fumes
burned and gone.
Mornings and pills swallowed.
In the musk
of an apothecary's basement,
bottled, dated,
hide the desparate sunsets:
variant crimson poisons
downed daily.
The twilight the vomit;
the cold night the serum,
the dreams the chasers
gathering in a line,
single-file, waiting
to die in my mind
before daylight,
before nothing.