When Night Shows its Fangs
A monstrous shadow, with the illusion of small, hard wings
flapping at its shoulders
descended into my vision like a living nightmare. I could not blink
as my eyelids were missing.
Evaporated was the word
echoing through this encapsulation. I
was the jellified victim of my own
legacy. Pluck one,
bleed two. Thousands
of imaginary
carrion companions parade before silence.
Cacophony gives way to ghostly emptiness. This place
where memories wear me like a skinned skeleton. I rattle externally,
dripping regret like coagulated flesh-cycles. I am waiting for the sun to thaw me gone.
*first line is the ending line of the novel, Candlenight, by Phil Rickman
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