The Ink is Still Wet
on my crown. it’s the color of crows’ eyes, frogs’ tongues,
the death of butterflies, the air that moves around a body
when it bows to death. there are worse things than losing
your head for a bit of pie. someone once took my heart
for the end of their scepter. everyone starts out as a pawn.
lower your face, lick the glue from the edges of my crown.
you want pardon? you’re thinking of those two other bitches.
i’m no queen of hearts, no red queen. i’m the mad hatter
made royal. all the ways about here now belong to me.
Image taken with iPhone at Jewelbox.
Words written in the queen’s chair, 1:30 pm, with snow outside.
Time Taken 15 minutes?
Brain on… it’s a morning of dirty thoughts, what can I say?