Sandmorphs of the Amethyst Moon

The watchful eye of the bleeding heart moon

turned amethyst,

her vellum glowed in its gaze—

a canvas for creatures of prey.

Black sand morphed white on her toes,

confectioners’ sugar

to said creatures

making them voraciously bay.

Storm clouds rained dirt

for moments turned years

while she learned to make bloodcastles

with hellbowls of tears.

Sorry for what they’d done,

treacherous birds of root

flew from her tormented refrain

to nest and to watch from beaches of soot.

A pièce de résistance complete

in its unfinishing,

thus, she set off to hunt prey of her own.

She tortured a few, but could kill only time,

true more to herself than a rule.

She’d only been waiting on setting cement,

and Prince Charming’s repent

for having left her alone in the light of such an encouraging moon.

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

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