Ghost

Image

She has black tipped fingers.

Stained with jealousy,

they tear at her heart,

endlessly shredding

her delicate,

specialized

cardiovascular muscle strands

into bloodied ribbons of razor sharp fear

which pool around her bare feet

and move with her,

snaking behind her,

licking razor flicks

at her ankles

as she roams her dusty path.

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I am submitting this poem to Open Link Night for dVerse Poets Pub, week 95.  Once again, I encourage anyone who enjoys writing and reading poetry to check out their site.

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