Thursday, November 3, 2011

Fear of Sentiment

©Stacie Sandall


Crumbling leaves
enveloped the ridges of rusty vines
as he carved his initials
into the peeling skin of the agate wall.
The pale, frigid stones beneath his feet
made his toes coil,
and the screeching odor
of burnt bread filled his lungs.
His naked body trembled
as half-blind hounds sniffed at him from a distance.
Moist, black tangles
poured from his head
and pallid ribs jutted from odd places.
While knotted knees wobbled and dipped,
vacant eyes scaled every inch of the damp earth.
Grabbing a gnarled twig,
he descended to all fours
and carved his initials into the peat.


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