I saw a dead man’s tattoos
stamped on him
as if steel –
lifeless things on
white flesh motionless, emotionless.
Trying to nail down his soul,
with nothing left to grab at.

A blue disposition,
blackened by the suffocating skin
under his eyes.
Lifeless things, falling short
of their object. Nothing left to
survey, while meaning
slops and
slides
off these things passing by
as if swamp mud.

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