Her sickly gaze, catches them
Strolling through, unaware of her
Lurking presence in the midst,
A wooded camouflage, as she
Undresses her desire, for youth
In the unsheath of canine,
Pounce, them in a single tick
As their screams are suffocated
In her narrow gullet, leaving parts
Cold and dry, to the circling vultures,
Stealing what she had lost
Many decades ago, while taking
The blind youth, stranded in her web,
After every drink ingested, she’s back
In her home, the day, the swing crashed.
It was early in the settling sun,
As the shadow is swallowed
By the house, pervading laughter,
When out from the gallow of the door
She emerged, stripped and torn
Apart, from the inside,
Stumbling, on weakened stilts
Through the stillness of hubris
In the watchful eyes of Laius.
©DorianPoe 2015
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