Old Bones Cracking

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group


Old Bones Cracking

Feeling a bit blue of the dawning. With my old skin slipping. As webs garnished the morgue, and I in my sleepy time rest. Laid out in my pressed tux. Like a pause of breath, falling with a harmonica at my lips. Of angels choiring my obituary on the looking glass of my soul. With ravens of red eyes. As my old friend Poe visited me and me in my sleepy time rest. With my old bones cracking as mice stopped the clock. Leaving Sue Ellen gelling in a marrow's aspic. As the cider of the McIntosh drips into the dawning. With my old skin slipping.


Submitted: July 08, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Atticus Abbey. All rights reserved.

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