Connected

Walking the labyrinth of cadavers
each looking for a song,
a simple note of plasma,
a transfusion in hugs,
some brew with sunlight
to replace the formaldehyde
injected by cold stares
the blurred conscious gazes.

Holding a moaning invisible
umbilical chord,
we all shuffled to the same nursery
it was icy and hollow
just like our guts.

The demons held
heir barbed wire
dripping in acid
blood stains on the ground,

didn’t matter,
no one screamed

pain was something

a reminder we still
could vomit and mate

so we took their wounds
grateful it meant
we were connected