Cadavrul Se Misca
There is nothing in front of the casket
Just a narrow hallway.
When the bereaved guilt-bearers gather
The maggots fall into his eyes
White worms taint image of skin
Pillbugs block the bullet hole
A joint twitches
The star arise
Once again
Worse than dead with rot within
An aura of botflies around his non person
Shaking bonestruck in its organic necromancic rewiring.
Maggots falling out of the mouthpiece
Now...
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