Lids lifted to reveal darkness inside,
bloodless and blank-eyed, a void where
life once illuminated
a world we’ll never know,
now null, flatlined,
fallow, forgotten. Nothing
left but lips opened for an oh of horror,
gaping where a last spasm
shuddered forth and
screamed silently,
exhaled what thin reed
stood against the banks
of an arid rill, a final
stand undermined as sand slid
where roots once held
with a rotted parchment claw.
Colorless and cold as porcelain,
twisted fingers clutched
as though scratching
lichen from stone, nails
filled with filth gathered from
petroglyphs scrawled into
the face of rocks.
