Slanderous Portentousness

Take it back! 
The foreboding spine
mines mines for 
vertical vertebrae vines,
slices of cold gold
foretold to be the yellow ruin
of every bloody thing.
The back cannot come back
however. The behind is 
behind us. Rewind is a 
grind that will not give
its ground. Lost must not
find the path that became
the walk the became the
talk that begrudged the 
things that were said
and, like the unmade 
bed, can never be
unsaid.