Her skull ruptured into growth,

strands thickly curling from crown to shoulder,

scaling along her spine like loose wires,

begging to be cut by the boys with

sleep paralysis for her beauty,

Her body tread lightly between the eyes of men,

hisses sprouting down her salted back,

arching into Eve’s mistakes -

each serpent sewing her sins

between skin and sundown.

Her name became absent,

leaving amorous scream to chime

the echoes through alleyways,

of the lost boys who will never know

how to dream again.

Image Credit:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *