Feast of All Souls

He's Got Buttons On His Eyes
Copyright 2007 - Louise Ann Stowell - Al Rights Reserved

Feast of All Souls

slip the mask

over

your face

caressing the curl of lips

left 

unkissed

touchable 

only

through glitter plastic

shield in place

with eyes that have never 

looked

so

naked

a sinless simulation

artfully crafted by a thousand nights

of indelicate deceits

variation justified

by cold corpses surpassing fiction

in their dumpster decadence

draping bloodless

bloated limbs

fingers point

at

nothing in particular

but inanimate eyes

charge

you

as your spotless boots

pick through the refuse

discreetly

you blend

into the absolute onyx

of the night

Copyright 1995 - Louise Ann Stowell - All Rights Reserved