In the Shadows, Beckoning



Faceless, umbra-fineried, she sits
Chairbound, hidebound. Life bound
Up in the weight of waits.
Seconds drip, tallow of her
Guttered, dribbled. Shape shifted
Geometry of gloom.
Desolate the luster winks barren promises
She, faithless from experience, no longer believes.
Time, her enemy, her friend
Spills shadow where a flayed hand beckons.

[image credit: hotblack, via morguefile]

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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