Backwoods Haunt by Sommer Cullingford
‘Mid the bleached bone
and wind wrought
leaning up of leaves
from bloodless arches;
Through the ribs of a cage,
free of flesh
and as grey as a whale;
Along the spines of lumber
a wind shivered
us to tatters –
howl-haired,
and hands glut with heart.
A ribcage grinned open,
branches pried toothless
by the light that shook at you;
You – beelzebub charm
and spun stone,
with me soon to speak;
The shapes we made
in mouths – wet vowels
hissing into home: we spoke –
plump-tongued, tusked,
and smug in love.
TDB Recommends NewzEngine.com
