you crawl yourself forwards

wearing their feet

among spindled legs,

those limbs are anaemic

and cannot amble

the room into a door,

boughs teeming with another’s blood

it’s soft tissue from another’s film,

I follow it now-

see this copied onto

your corpse I might watch,

and see this stranger in the room,

and feel a stranger feign their face,

claustrophobic breeding

makeshift hollow hands,

you cannot collect from floor,

and cannot reel back membrane,

this Frankenstein a name

I realise- yet,

I still do not know

your face…