our demon

She is a beast with many tails, shining eyes, meticulous stirs, and a thousand mouths of fire. Her skin is full of worms, and long fingers twist over her colorful body. She is smothered in dirt and vegetation. She has pure black blood. Her belly is a maelstrom of watery salt, roiling with currents, tearing through her innards like an unstoppable liquid wind. Beneath her skin boils the fury of an ancient fire, churning in massive bubbles of burning nausea. Across her surface races layers of torrential pressure, shoving moisture up and around in billowing mushrooms of white and grey. Her backbones rip up through the dirt and stagger towering mightily over the flats of her shoulder blades. Heavy snow and ice pelt her silver skeleton, gathering in drifts between her vertebrae. She lies in a breathing silence.
Our demon's body moves slowly as we scramble like blind rats across her skin. With tiny fists, we shake her to waking. As she breaths, we sigh. As she snores, we wonder. As she coughs, we worry. As she vomits, we cry with fear. As she dies, we die.
We are the fair-weathered human race, saddled firm, gripping riding crop and planting leathery chokes. With a wide grin we turn our demon into a freak show, monopolizing her luxurious body for money. We defecate in her mouth and pores.
We spit in her veins. We drill her spine for fresh marrow. We gorge our guts with her fatty flesh. We violate her beautiful body for our pleasures. She suffocates in our soot. She retches in our trash. She cries in our sour rain. We look to live forever while she slowly dies. She is our demon, and she is our only demon.