Red

the puppet
who thinks he's alive
fit for duty
decided to decorate
the desert with vultures
staying alive
until it dies
his tongue
was cold
and sharp
the shame
of a leech
drunken with blood
where the dark has no taste
and tragedy becomes mundane
there's no point in dialogue now
the last coin sandblasted
red trinkets of ice
as she shops for presents
~cyndy posted by Cyndy | link | | |
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