He opens the door a bit
and closes it again and
lights a match, running low
on phosphorus, the panel
he is reading is black and white, but
shades, symbols of endless
colour. The first picture is a princess
walking with a gun to her
back. The second is light filtering
through the leaves. The last frame
is not a prince or a gun or a flash,
but it is how haunted the woods
are and animals drawn beneath
the newspaper, but he coughs and
the light goes out, he hears
some one walk in the room.
ink as the cry of valhalla
26 Thursday Mar 2015
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