The Rotting Lovers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


The Rotting Lovers


Their loins

Centuries old,


By afterbirth,

The rotting lovers


Hands upon thighs

They cannot kiss,

They have no lips,

The stench

Of stale perfume

Surrounds their surrender.

Their blank eyes


The furniture


In the shadows,

The putrid curtains,

The black window panes,

And the weight

Of the ceiling.


They are like corpses

In the ocean,

In the stalemate

Of the afternoon,

Hunched into a pillow,

Into dusk,

Into the corner

Of a galaxy,

In the antiroom.


Submitted: March 31, 2018

© Copyright 2023 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.

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