Two-pronged claw
squeezing bottleneck —
a pale gold liquid that
drips down her shell.
Wrapped in punch
toned cloth, the roof
painted with rubber eggs
of wild colours and string.
Dirty blonde, twisted —
crashing down,
howling. Eyes shut, blindly
stalking like an animal slaughtered.
Behind a prism, he takes
out his poison dart and
kisses it — beer in his
hoof, pulp exposed.
Originally published by A Thin Slice of Anxiety
Courtenay's Corner 