Rotten Yellow

Stench of solvent

Covers stench of rot

I didn't even recognize her

Like a painting

A masterpiece torn to pieces

And set to flame

Her own cells

Turned on her

Her skin

Is yellow

Like the wildflowers

In July

She asks me how she looks

And I tell her

That she's as lovely as the vultures

As pretty as the larvae of the fly

Pretty as the larvae of the fly