sour dreams

her skin,

witch like in the green
jello

mask

was frightening. the last
vision
seen before

the lights went out.
even now

years later, I cringe
and bite

my hand in remembrance
of that.

the hair yanked back
into a yellow

knot.
the rack of bones,
whitened
like flour poured from

a hole in a sack.
I stayed on my side of
the bed,

her to hers, lying still
in the cold darkness

on

the dungeon rack.