on her breath, a smoke as white as lilies. i cannot stay here for long in this charnel house… the temple that was once her is shifting, buckling, seizing, burning…. there’s flames licking at the roof of her mouth. every vein reduced to a nasty, crackling rubber. every fizzle, every pop! my nostrils fill with bile.
my bloated fingers claw at the charring husk in her diaphragm.... this time i cannot escape society’s witch trial.