Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/red-and-black-floral-textile-9HMGyZJfrk8) 15. 4. 2024.
primordial tautology
and so it spun its web in
anticipatory mourning,
dancing to the wingbeat of flies,
knowing that it all ends there and
then.
tremulous now,
it leaps into the gone,
subdued by witnessing flesh
after which
comes the furnace of
duration.
Hangman
A straight line is a house of fear—
a rite of ascesis
debarring pullulation
via the clean sweep of
a long-drawn-out punctuation—
a protracted dying,
if only to elude
the oval gaping maw,
now a scarred plenum—
the body desacralized
on which—I—hang
crucified.
About the Author: Krystle Eilen is a 22-year-old poet who is currently attending university. Her works have been featured in A Thin Slice of Anxiety, BlazeVOX, Hive Avenue Literary Journal, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Poetry Life and Times, Dipity Literary Magazine, and Young Ravens Literary Review. During her spare time, she enjoys reading and making art.
