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My Bride
A broken cheekbone takes its place in a haunted, grey face
The lines stark, jagged, sharp as a cut stone and lifeless as cold sherry.
Eyes that gaze out at you, hook you, taunt you with their expressionless hue;
Eyes that say I have Found you, I will Consume you in a haze of blue.
Hair that cascades in a thousand thin strands;
Limp, leaf-like, damp,
Green as the murky depths of a lake;
Frozen like the icicles that rest on Antarctica’s smooth white lip.
Bones huddle together in a skeleton of despair
Horrible, hunched, a spectre, a haunting;
She stares with her hissing eyes and her dark, small smile.
The vision of a lady,
Once beautiful, once living,
Ghosts through the lens of the mortals,
And she glides through air and space,
A saddened bride.
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