Bloody candle wax stained cigarettes.
Red rice soaked foot print.
Hollering banshee in the corner the light nurtures
concealment of darkness.
It flickers and can’t resist partial diagrams of complicitious shade.
There wasn’t a memory of this venomous smell or taste to compare it to.
No snake charming remedy at the front door.
How could you know it would recoil?
Blind and with nowhere to move even in the back woods.
No comments:
Post a Comment