Poem by Amelia Arce
It was a solemn night.
The type you walk for meditation
and enjoy the twilight light dew.
I went for a drag
Eyeing him on the corner sucking on life.
Cottontail, devouring, crimson
and unsatisfied appetite.
The hairs on my neck
stood.
I let him bleed out and take the life away.
He is full of ticks and treats,
A sugary bite and its’ your deceit.
Medium | Archival Digital |
---|---|
Sub-Medium | Printed on pressed wood, highly glossy finish. |
Height | 21 inches |
Width | 21 inches |
Only 1 left in stock
Poem by Amelia Arce
It was a solemn night.
The type you walk for meditation
and enjoy the twilight light dew.
I went for a drag
Eyeing him on the corner sucking on life.
Cottontail, devouring, crimson
and unsatisfied appetite.
The hairs on my neck
stood.
I let him bleed out and take the life away.
He is full of ticks and treats,
A sugary bite and its’ your deceit.
Medium | Archival Digital |
---|---|
Sub-Medium | Printed on pressed wood, highly glossy finish. |
Height | 21 inches |
Width | 21 inches |
Only 1 left in stock
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