Mold: 11/May/20
A heavy, full, curious mouth
In the folds of an obsolete, cherished gown
Sown in demise and invective mold
Gale of purples and greens
A heating bruise at the hems
A growing pariah's ruse in sighing lace
Benign gallery of golden hour inundated in a twilight dance
Encroaching blood of puce heads
A midnight crown hailing in exuberant obstinacy
The mourning glutton
Fabric yearning for propinquity with its owner
A swelling vein of macabre
Gnawing bones, spines, threads, throats
Eating insatiably;
Mold
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Am I 'Absolute'?
PuisiMostly poems and art, some quotes and short stories. Not everything is an original of mine, so if it isn't I will state so on the page. 😊 Also: Helloooo! Oh my gosh! #1 in original poems!!
