Wednesday, April 26, 2017

As Dead as Last Winter by Paul Tristram

It is cube-shaped.
She can feel the sharp corners
digging into her
under her chest bone,
whenever she shudders
or sighs heavily.
Definitely glass,
the suction of her flesh and muscle
sliding and sticking
to its cold, sterile sides
gives this away.
A square ‘Snow Globe’, if you will,
but, when shook
it produces hundreds of tears
instead of a Christmas scene.
There is a little figurine inside,
the exact replica of herself,
face distorted and frozen
into a soundless scream.
Abandoned, wounded, lost
and staring despairingly
at his slowly disappearing footsteps…
leaving her forever as dead as last Winter.

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his book ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press)

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