the lizard lay

motionless

not dead,

just content

soaking in the golden rays

bathing in the summer warmth

nestled soundly

atop his rock

eyeing the rising sun

and minding the heat

sure to follow

soon to drain the life from his limbs

dry the life 

from his domain

and soon, each breath

grows heavy with the weight of the last

not quite on pace

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amid starlight she reposes

my life's in her lizard face

that library of dusty looks

records my fall from grace

she took the best from me

sucking me dry every day

each wrinkle taunting me

dry pointers to my decay

I pray she does not wake

no pity runs in my veins

but violation at the sight

of what sleep she feigns

she's a monument to loss

contami...

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