Uncut

He stands there
In a misty lake

His skin pale and blue
He is almost translucent

Not one blemish
Not one imperfection

His skin is smooth
Too smooth

His hair raven black and uncut
twirls and twists around
in the breeze,
covering his nakedness

He brings his hands towards me,
palms up in a gesture of
ultimate forgiveness

The shock of what I see
tastes bitter in my mouth,
the metallic taste of blood
fills my being

His wrists are a tangle
of ripped flesh and skin,
gaping holes and flapping
veiney muscle

I forgive you, he says
in a soft caring voice
But I will see you soon

His hands are ice on my throat
as I start to lose consciousness
I think of how I drove him to
death.