Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The daughter (writing work)

(A wench)

 Red faces 
from shame and blood

the red faces 
bleary eyed , unsuspecting lovers that you connived with your silence

Dull of mind and perception.

naked skins of damsels with soft dresses 
dance on my cranium
the nights that your musings become mine

and the smell of cut fingers fills my room

 10 melted rings on 8 cut fingers 
that of a witch who burned

 
a wench


Better photos of my works