everything was buzzing with silence
when he
mummified her
in sterile sheets
the ones with the daisies
delicate
pinks and purples
his grandmother’s
she was lucid
so, so
lucid
she left and his words
rose quietly to her surface
so proudly
he knocked the lamp
the one on his side
of the bed
it crashed to the floor like an
amateur marching band
she lit up those flowers
like a hundred tiny stars
she sparkled with truth
like the fourth of july
he held his own head
like a bowling ball now
he ran to the closet and
locked himself inside
while their
bedroom lit up
like a smoke bomb
she freed herself and
blew a kiss towards the closet
good luck
she stepped over the lamp wreckage
closed the door, left him inside
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Nicole Marie
You never cease to amaze me. Wonderful.
Thank you so much, Mark.
You’re an excellent writer.
Thank you, Edward.
🙂
Love it.
Thank you 🙂
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