How many times can a man come back from the dead?
Ask me.
I’ve gulped a cup of brine from the River Styx,
and felt needles of bone pierce the tender flesh of my chest
as I swung above the ritual fire.
How many times can a man come back from the dead?
Kiss me.
I’ve shared the gift of life from the loins of a martyr,
and pissed a melody of amber pearls across the white hot
anvil of creation.
How many times can a man come back from the dead?
Taste me.
I’ve shared the musky breathe of life when air was unforeseen,
and raked my jagged nails across the back of my jailer when
his white scrubs just wouldn’t stay tied.
How many times can a man come back from the dead?
Fuck me.
I’ve shared the toxic sand of red and white spilled blindly into my gut,
and spit up foamy red across swollen lips
when the tears were all I had.
How many times can a man come back from the dead?
Hold me.
We’ll jump together. Then you tell me…
How many times can a man come back from the dead?
