Thursday, August 9, 2012

Two by Sarah Edwards


Nail clippings stuck in the throat
The skeletal-faced doctor died in childbirth

Removing and consuming
the yelping heart

It was turned around and burned with the flaming veggies

Taste of salty ashes
suck at the
hollow tongue.

Being Night

The feeding of a pale essence to an inhabited loved one
marks the mischief of an accused undead

Bloated veins exhume the dominant fantasy


Crossing a sack of bodies

Staring through hungry eyes of an emaciated quality
Eating the imaginary spawn of a ruddy corpse.

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