Night caved in
plucking out windows and kicking down doors
It was a (sort of) nightmare, really,
Fleshed out, translucent,
sucking and gathering the stems of my eyes
dripping with cold birth moldering in the shade
tongue tied, slightly hammered
like cold rolled steel i lay flat on her anvil
finished with my life
At an hour when desperate trembling can lend
a certain veneer of crediblity
And moonbeams droop from killer poles like sicknesses in trees
my heart will stop fluttering in topsoil, shifting its weight,
Opening like an umbrella unto my breath
Wickedly austere! Welcome and pip pip!
Love it.
Peace,
B
I really enjoy your work.
Chanti