The Colour, That Colour

January 20, 2013 at 8:47 pm (Bodies, circus, Home, Out) (, , , )

That month, crisp
on evening of alarming skies,
some awesome shade (or other).
The iced grass crossroads of King Mab
barking orders
to stop.
He did now.

With home gone

he did now spit fire.
He did now juggle that knife;
learned there was no trick to it,
you just did it without dropping the blade,
swallowed the fire and winced
through the blisters. Bubbled
up throat.

Now he did feel that sharp
pick adrenaline fueling his shudder as he knew
by the way someone stood
that they meant for their next word to be brutal.

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