Bone of the Sentence.
Pixabay
Suppressed screams emerge from cracks in the deep earth, while death in silk robes surrounds the alcove.
Behind the mirror, a skinless face suddenly begins to sprout. Iron nails scrape the door, searching for a warm corner, drinking the breath and strength of a broken, gray heart.
Do not close your eyes if you hear the wind calling his name, for today the green reclaims the essence of this entire man.
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For we are beings born of the soil, and eventually it calls us home, for in the end, we are its meal