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Slither
by Jemima Childs
the room glowed
a scorched-syrup ember
and a small china vase stood in the corner
five ghouls enclave the
circular brass table,
the slab of moon set in the centre
a thin, lilac slither
of its brittle shell
rocks gently on the platter
pumpkin-planetoid
orb of spice
celestial crunch.
a scythe dissects
the circumference;
the nucleus is empty
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About Jemima
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Jemima is a poet and journalist living in London. She’s a brunch enthusiast, and always hopes inspiration will hit.
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