Opening your body to expose the secrets you hide
Lubricated with oils, I slide my hands deep inside
Mesmerised by the miasma of pain
Tasting wretched vomit before swallowing again
Blunt force trauma, head injuries
Broken bones and limbs torn free
Lacerations to the gut
Removing your clothing
Dyed red with your blood
Standing above your display of intestines
Excavating organs looking for signs of infection
Popping sounds as I remove
The soft remains of what’s left of you
Digging my needle deep in the cranium
Cracked and spattered with gore
I spread the ribs to aid in my searching
My pursuit for what I’m looking for
Nothing found intact though its all bagged and in bits
Nearly four o’clock meaning its time to call it quits
Piles of your postulated perforated meat
Left on the steel slab with a name tied to your feet
John Doe number one three sixty nine
Paperwork done and its quitting time
Walking through the morgue and nearly forgot
I lean into your cadaver to retrieve my watch.
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