The Lost Harbor of Transiently Buoyant, Fresh Faces

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It was on the tip of my tongue, shipwrecked.

Sucking venom from an urchin spine had never been so gratifying.

 

The scaly beast tightened its hold on my empty veins,

Whispering tainted omens amid nauseating shrieks.

 

But when you asked, virulent gunge turned to sugar crystal.

The saccharinity brought me to my knees, blinded from your visage.

 

Ancient glaciers flowed like glimmering rivers from my soul as the beast retreated.

Like a loose pebble in a rising tide, the words escaped.

 

“I ate the baby, Tom.”




Artwork is from Flickr. 

4 thoughts on “The Lost Harbor of Transiently Buoyant, Fresh Faces

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