voodoo child

scarlet eyes, empty lustre
inky hair, in a cluster
wooden mistress, glassy master

woollen hearts, pins and arrows
baskets of forgotten sorrows
clocks chiming in tomorrows

echoing homes and their windy attics
kitchens filled with bread and matchsticks
children made of candlewicks

find them quickly, where it was cast –
this human hour will not last –
you’ve been found, now hold fast –

 

 

 

 


NaPoWriMo Day 4

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