Shadow

I curl up in your shadow,
waiting for my slow
    eminent death.
Catching my breath
    just before
        I exhale my last,
I watch our film
    roll of lies;
        a French Noir flick
    of indisposed
        cultural
            misreadings.
I head on out and
    wash all color
    from my skin.
With our bubbles of
    ancient lust as a last reminder,
my eyes roll back and
    the black cave twists
with a lisp of harsh sound.
In your shadow I die
                over
                    and
                        over
                            (again).