Friday, July 9, 2021

my dear morticia

i know that howling
in the woods.
the full moon.
the screech of the owl.
the flutter
of bat wings.
i know those nights.
the eerie clouds,
the haunting music.
the bitten neck,
the pale skin,
those wanton eyes.
they were such fun nights
with you,
morticia. 
don't be a stranger,
fly over, soon.

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