By Ivor Griffiths
|
buzzes a dark empty, cold room, sunny outside, thick dark blue velvet curtains, black out all but a chink of light. Noises outside of others playing. Door locked she liked to play with dollies pink dresses and frilly feelings dressing them carefully with shoes hiding them all from view.
He liked to watch the pictures grainy in black and white sepia tones of earth plants clawing at their legs, remember?
Bread frying, dark brown, umber edges, left a hanging smell in a stale tobacco smoke haze, while crispy greasy fingers rubbed legs.
She laboured through mud and dark to placate a man with womb and pain, bloated she cried through lack of love. Eyelids swollen red stinging, ears buzzing.
Lemon and limejuice spilt floor sour yellow feast of sticky poison he warily lifts the blue black curtain. Air is whirring pain and noise, remember?
Crouch down whisper hide small and wait, dark and warm, black and yellow.
Authority figure buzzing. Ivor Griffiths, 2006
|