I am Jack’s ruptured and shredded aorta.

blind to the last curse of the fair pistols and countless eyes
a trail of white blood betrays the reckless route your craft is running
feed till the sun turns into wood dousing an ancient torch
loiter the whole day through and lose yourself in lines dissecting love.

your name on my cast and my notes on your stay
offer me little but doting on a crime.
we’ve turned every stone and for all our inventions
in matters of love loss, we’ve no recourse at all.

Illustration by Brasilian artist, Pedro Lucena
His other works are just as hauntingly beautiful. 
Words by James Mercer. 


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