#brittany markert
house of decay
before the sun screamed out its last ray of light, she ran, as her grandmother once old her, to the house of decay.
Forgotten many years ago, the trees curled in, begging the ground for liquid life, the rotted wood reached together by beaten threads and the only inhabitants were a family of lively pigeon corpses
she peeled the confining threads off her back and recalled her grandmother’s resting words, “ run fast to the house of decay!, and there amongst forgotten life, as the sun falls to absolute darkness, you will find the brightest light”
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Portrait of Tonya.
Desire, like the dim
lit moon, subdued,
as dusk, still waning.
aching as the clock’s
tic taunts from behind
the glass pane, the
pendulum, encased
in rosewood, smooth as two
backs might embrace
behind closed doors,
locked in-rooms, in-
hales, exaltations.
both tainted, cravings,
creaked through door,
let loose into midnight’s
mystery, the obsidian hue.
words by Pieter
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