treacle drips like crow black tar.
darkly secretive deeply secluded.
a mystery of whispers that bleeds night.
a lack of light.
a lack of white.
as thick as time and as slow as pain.
compost heavy.
tampax sodden.
silence corrupts beating ravens wings.
tick tock tick tock.
time rotates my heart.
a brood of baleful blood bats fly.
a flight of grave stone dread.
frost fingers constrict rubber throat.
breath crashes steel thread razorwire.
the dark crushes bow wing ribs.
life falls trembling into the pillowed pit.
the precocious fear of angels.
Do not forget to visit Fekenham Swarberry for your weekly village update
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all words and art are copyright © of cocaine jesus.
