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Crawlers
Light stutters and slacks
slips under an ancient nightgown.
Gore and ghast rise to pin back eyes.
Plaster cast crawlers
take over the wards of dreamers.
The nurse is buried in her 'Peoples' magazine
she does not see the shadows
reaching to seal her coffin.
Tunnels arrive like mouths;
enter the breath bereft pyramid robbers,
moth-eaten eyes pined to their extinct skulls.
They want to steal your darkness
weave it into nightmares,
ride you like a seahorse in an oily turgid ocean
until you sink all your wish-bones
too deep for any hope.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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