CONSUMMATION —

Roots bloom up into the sky
Where a life consumes a life
A spider weaves a violent thread
In mother's harsh delight
A husband's back
The touch of his wife
A mix of dark and light
No words need said
Slip into the bed
You know you've
Done alright 


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Pikthall is a writer.


















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Suspended children
flee a building burning permanent
persuaded and dissuaded
out of the dank
into the fray
weeping and
waving
in vain.
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Pikthall is a writer.

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