The Madeira Man Pt. 4

On an endless blanket of transparent sapphire,

floating on a hastily made raft,

with splinters piercing into skin,

letting blood out

letting so much blood out.

His severed heads bob up and down,

eyes watching waves simmer the decaying

the rotting

the burning

into their perfect, blue waves.

Glass sheets cutting through bone and trees.

The bigger his grin, the deeper the islands sink

sink into trenches crawling with skeletons

marred by bullets and machetes.

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