Flesh seeps through the floorboards of the house they paid for.
They run the nine to five and pay with plastic for the comforts and consistency.
But she still hears him at night, crying in his closet --- muffled sounds from the crush of the clothing around him.
He comes out of the wardrobe with a smile, but lines as deep as earthquake cracks in the ground
tell the truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment