Relics

I don't mind if you climb inside This stump I left behind This lump of rot whose body parts Broke free of dotted lines Pluck a tooth, score a limb Scrawl a note or two In this lair of desert air There's room for both of you Odds and ends amidst the mud Insinuate a face A thin disguise free of love Cheeks the wind erased An alibi for skin and hair Where only dust resides Crumbled like an arid lie Free of human fear So grab some stringy gristle A brittle part will do Or a compact mass of bone and grass With the mellow scent of dew I don't mind if you grin or pout If you're whole or if you're broken Despite my rugged gutter mouth My door is always open Written by © Raven Drake