The Words (The Dread)

   this fugue of    words
      begins at eyeopen,
       a     thesaurus of  inward-   
   hearkening   feelings  
   retracing and redirecting
  happiness home to
   fear—
    a billion black  wings
     with photophobic bodies
      beating
      and
     speaking  and
      simulating   the
    apricot-coloured
        close-eyed orgy of
       peaceless    deathsex.
      in silence they  trouble 
       then break the sky with
    their sudden ascending dread,
      crying and making
          such
        satanic  music
     as  the damned dance to,
       busy things,
         now watch me sleep.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio

$1.00

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