Skullduggery
Updated on January 10, 2010
Skullduggery.
Sometimes just
around dusk,
I am able to
read my future
in the dim
reflections of
an ancient mirror,
near a small
tinted window.
The hollows
of my eyes
become cavernous
and the sharpness
of my cheekbones
protrude like
Mt. Rushmore,
as my Adams Apple
falls prey to Eve
Then if
I grimace
with teeth
clenched tight,
at my sudden
wasting away
in the waning light,
I can almost
see the skull
I will become
waiting patiently
beneath paper
thin skin.
Only my
nose remains
not yet
sunken into
a nostril-damus
of some distant
tomorrow's fate.
It's then
that I flick
a switch,
and resume
my place
amongst
the living.
? /
( o o )~~~MFB III
\ ^ /
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