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34 lines
575 B
Text
34 lines
575 B
Text
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Flickering Out
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2021-03-24
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***
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The wax pulses down
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like an open wound,
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a devilish smile opened
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in a girl dying too soon.
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Blue blood curdling
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once hit the glass floor,
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air pockets exposed,
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red rings open sores.
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A wick that burns all too fast
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dilapidated spine,
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head singed through, lungs diffused,
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no longer able to opine.
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The bottom drips cut off,
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a mannequin without legs,
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smooth rump, top half missing,
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burning the last of the dregs.
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What was once a cheerful face
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is now a murky puddle
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at my brassy feet.
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A fading all too subtle.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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