Cartridge

Nectar in a vial

vaporizes on copper coil

and ascends through a mouthpiece

No mouthpiece like those of trumpets

kissed by heaven’s cherubs

triumphing overtures

to pastel clouds

ensconced in Blue

No sky in sight

except the moon

slivering through the blinds,

so many of which

are creased

The mattress gives a lofty hold

for the pair to recede in their hoods

and unclench their chests

like tectonic plates

to let the apparition in their lungs

roam freely

Purple strips hum fluorescing

for two cadavers

sinking farther behind their eyes

into hot buzzing heads,

escaping from themselves