we rise on haunted nights.

ghostly whispers move

under a voodoo blood moon,

a slow-shimmer-slink

of air over bone,

their dark love calling us home,

cosmic cadavers

with claws that sink deep,

burning nerves

and setting veins on fire

we stand on the cusp of shadows,

slowly disappearing into the ether,

our souls chained to a sinking sun

– ashley jane

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