Photo Credit: Lilyanna

A wrinkled wrap
of waxen film
on dry bent bones..
A sparse and spindly
by insolence- sculpt..
The volatile mother
of my tumultuous youth,
alone, adrift, inside
a supine
stocking of opaque, 
organdy flesh..
The acrid smoke
of a sour old woman
now subdued,
defenseless, behind
limpid eyelids,
that flutter-
then not
as she silently secedes
her grasp on a ruthless reign.

Word Count: 65

Written in response to Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt.

13 thoughts on “Silhouette

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