Approaching Her Blind

She is eyeless.
Thickets of downy
corby-jet crown her.
Purple bull’s-eyes
suffocate,
curtain her eyeless voids.

Empyrean wells
of violet-black
abyssal noise,
leave hollow sounds,
winds howling in the tunnels,
of her soulless soundless joys.

Behind them through her
shadowed attic
marched forgotten toys,
Abused and broken,
un-cared for by naughty
girls & boys.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s