A clown leers at me.
The knife-thrower aims
and misses.
I run into a tent.
Mirrors surround me.
I flee into the darkness
and crash through a mirror.
I stand in a dark room.
The floor spins.
I grab the walls.
My hands slide
on the slippery stones.
A hole opens in the ground.
It widens,
pulling me closer
to the abyss.
I’m falling.
THE DEAD GAME
No comments:
Post a Comment