Tuesday, February 9, 2016

tomb

there is a hallway full of echoes
at the end, a room of masks
and the faces melt and reshape
false and contour, form and artifice
collapse
the gold paint licks
a shadow, cheekbones
glint, a bridge denotes
oblique black eyes, cold
and the cackling shifting of plaster
lifts and resists
any attempt to be stilled.

~

RNH