Jack of Many Trades

NaPoWriMo: Twilight

Originally posted: 2013-04-05

she stands under the corpse-grey sky her heart insubstantial, nothing but an illusion cast by her mind, the light playing with her again.

she is the bone in the rabid dog's mouth, shaken, hair in her eyes, silk stitching her mouth shut, ears closed against the horns. none of it penetrates, none of it is real least of all dying.

This is the first of ten or so poems I want to write for my fictional projects this NaPoWriMo. If you're interested, let me know, I can point you towards more of my writing.