Warning: Amphigorical Content!

grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Summer Well

the faltering air
warm syrup
over uncountable green fingers
poking through the moss
above the soft dark loam
busy with ants

slow-dancing worms
feasting in the labyrinths of the blind
amid the pale tubers
inching though the soil
unlit sunseekers
following their hearts
below the stones
like bubbles in the cool still earth

three fathoms down
lies the water
clear turned starless black
mirroring the unseen
biding her time
eyeing the sky

above her breathing hole
a mouth of aging lime and clay
heard whispering in corridors
and abandoned places

cold-skinned and malignant
she lies quietly
like a nightmare under the bed
listening to me breathe
willing me
daring me
to put down a single naked foot

can no one save me?
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Spagphacious Aeolotony by Philip Damian-Grint is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License
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