• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 04
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Don’t do it

Her eyes said
Her voice lost
in the fog that descended upon them
She followed the tight lines upon his face
Skin stretched, nailed by piercing eyebrows
His jaw, a geometrical figure
she learnt nothing about
But the instrument in his hand
was familiar
A murder weapon
Three-pointed like his fear, anger
and paranoia

Somewhere flesh leapt and grew sated
under humid blankets
unaware of its ephemerality
It would later that day be
into a unpleasant memory