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Slipping



Slip below the sands

Eyes open.

Ticking, clicking. Hoot.

Movies play

Keep all at bay

But maybe it’s too late.

Unhinge jaw

Devouring ash and dust

Along a blood-soaked tongue.

Scrambling

Running

Try to flee

But what I am won’t stop.

Inhale the rot of armies

Before a generous bite.

Some remain

Silver sticks in drive

Ready for a fight.

Gangrene

Shrills screams

Tickle in the throat.

Wake upon a clouded bed

Bemoan my loss of fate.

Except I do this every night

Slip below the earth and wait.

 

© 2022 Erin Quill. All Rights Reserved.

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