Long gone

A glance of hostility 

projected through wet collodion plate

Burnished flare

hot holocausts sweeping already blind eyes

draped in dust and eroded with sepia 

crumbling emulsions drained of their light

Ghost of perdition

Corpse frozen clasped behind a thin glass slab  

Spinal cord limp, impending vignette

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes a poem has to die before it can be born...rising from the ashes of creativity.