NaPoWriMo #6 – They Call It Shadow

i

A cloak
is cast aside,

its hefty weight
the inevitable burden
of the stairs’ banisters,

the gruesome flourish
of the party’s end
at the midnight strike.

ii

His dexterous hands

carve hollows
for his eyes,

gouge out
the aquiline streak
of his forehead

and cut a mask
under the glare
of passing headlights –

but he disappears in fright

with the flick
of a switch.

iii

She hugs him tightly.

The irregularity
of his shape,

though a bit too spiky
for her liking,

does not scare her.

© Zelda Reville


NaPoWriMo’s prompt for Day 6 comes in handy here. I was hit by a strange bout of fatigue during the weekend, so I stopped for a bit. I’m gearing up again! I’m not quitting yet! Not!

 

 

 

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