Virgin Pearls Torn From a Soiled Tapestry

                    i.

Fingertips worm their flesh fallow, burn gold
turning over until marrow worn down
from searching torn out surfaces bones ground.

In their grip, warmth wears red all glow, gatefolds
gaping sleeves, papers broken backs hardbound—
fingertips worm their flesh fallow, burn gold
turning over until marrow’s worn down.

Tearing virgin pearls cotton mouths behold,
winking lips tongue in torrents of ripped folds
from whispers gathered. In rumours tangled
fingertips worm their flesh fallow, burn gold
turning over until marrow worn down
from searching torn out surfaces bones ground.

                    ii.

Double madrigal no one tomorrow
will know how to wear, ears full as their own
want not for jewels but bear only sounds

those beholden to bellowed noise swallow.
In sunless lands routine amounts to plot,
doubles madrigals no one tomorrow
will know how to wear, ears full as their own.

Yet when troubadours want, songs tremolo
hunger’s haunt from hummed verse to full-blown moan,
fing’ring open for filth mouths none atone,
double madrigals no one tomorrow
will know how to wear. Ears full as their own
want not for jewels but bear only sounds.