The sky fell.

Like spilled paint – thick, viscous.

Coagulating on the horizon.


She walked.

Through a crack in the absence – black-on-black, invisible.

Eternal. Empty.


Her lips.

They bore a promise.

Death and passion, entwined.


The sky fell.

And no-one mourned its passing.


Because not one of us


what to say.


2 thoughts on “

  1. We miss your face over at Trifecta. Hope you’re well.

    • Hey Trifectans! I was just looking at the Challenge this morning and trying to come up with something for it. I’m alright, other than the usual self-doubt and tiredness. My face will be back soon (probably this week!) Thanks for stopping by, gang!

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