blackflecked-silver

green frost              dissipating         a dream interrupted   red ice melting                a heart shelled open      black snow swirling               debris of a soiled mind.                                               .                                               . The whitewash flakes off And the rotting glares at ceremony

A warm shaft of sunlight, dust motes dancing in the beam, reached into the darkness and grabbed the unmoving body, outlining it in shadows like chalk on a TV crime scene. It was not meant to end like this... not here in the hot stink of decaying nothingness. I had seen her on various occasions, as I used to hurry past the human wreckage huddled in doorways and against tin walls. Always wary of the dog with the bloated stomach, which was usually meandering along sniffing at vile, murky puddles. Her gaze would  sometimes grip mine and refuse to let go. Her dark eyes, so like my own, festering with a soulless hunger. I knew what she was to me a