< Issue 5 >
Aftermath
by Deonte Osayande
You were dressed for a masquerade ball.
The chair kicked out from under your feet,
your neck finally tightened with a rope
like ink tattooing your vocal chords.
Your heart was a heavy pair of concrete loafers.
You wore a tuxedo of matches, hanging there,
above an ocean of oil on the floor.
Pulling out the lighter in your pocket,
you held it's flame close to your chest,
an embrace you never felt.
We found the house
in the same state I found you
hours before on that night,
burned to a crisp, unrecognizable.
Aftermath
by Deonte Osayande
You were dressed for a masquerade ball.
The chair kicked out from under your feet,
your neck finally tightened with a rope
like ink tattooing your vocal chords.
Your heart was a heavy pair of concrete loafers.
You wore a tuxedo of matches, hanging there,
above an ocean of oil on the floor.
Pulling out the lighter in your pocket,
you held it's flame close to your chest,
an embrace you never felt.
We found the house
in the same state I found you
hours before on that night,
burned to a crisp, unrecognizable.
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