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 

 

 

About Jemima

Jemima is a poet and journalist living in London. She’s a brunch enthusiast, and always hopes inspiration will hit.

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