Crooked
A crooked in the walk,
Shakes pulse in a hand.
Twisted fingers in lock,
Eye lids flick, eyes bland.
Blood bubbles in tunnels,
Bone and sinew dried tight.
Nerves splayed in bundles,
Skin fever Sorrow’s blight.
Apparition cowers in shell,
Display for Sanity’s world.
Pulling ashes from Joy’s well,
All the while in dark curled.
EaS
Monday, August 29, 2016
Crooked
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