combed through oceans of ghosts

washing my lashes in a hot bath

Of red glass

& yet the pale breeze of a drowsy mist

long since burned out by sirens fingers

& an angry woe, braids talons into fairy tales;

words woven into headstones

branded on black hearts in litanies of decaying lore

it’s for this game of thrill & hide & seek

the dark blue & dumb hunt loves lie

with open arms, dusted to that dead pile

of ruined smiles

a maze that curls a thousand miles

words = samantha lucero 2016 ©
image = not mine.

5 thoughts on “minotaur


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