Ghost of Earth ©


October 26, 2015 Poems, Word, Writing

Wore it like a witch
tracing fingertips
along a silver belly.
Snake River.
Shivered twice
as onyx trailed behind,
once for me,
once for mine.
Pagan whispers bade,
inch closer,
further the ermine.
Drips of a soul
folded into the jagged
excrement of that bluff.
That blind chasm.
Widows peak, it seemed,
Drunk on the incline,
both vertigo-eyed
we delivered a hiss
to the time.

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