Wish me Luck

Skeleton100, I don’t want you to leave. Maybe you’re a gray little mouse, but a sensitive one. That’s rare and valuable. I hope you reconsider it in time.

On the other hand, I envy you the courage. I hope I will find myself enough of it to depart soon…

Darker, through a glass – by Joanna Lech

Only streaks visible, blurred stains. Mists enveloping the lake
swelling sideways, like a bruise. Swallowing up trees. Bringing thaws,
or only the forecast; like an echo from beneath the ice, an attempted exit
through dark air, or crushed light.

Scales instead of skin. Flesh of silt and fish bones.

It won’t be long before the chill dissolves in veins,
slashes the gullet. Punctures the lungs. Someone unknown will approach
and gather up the shards from shore, will cover up the tracks.

They will say don’t look. I am afraid of your stare. As if everything was falling
apart. This frost, this rupture; in each window, through every pane of
[glass,
only the waters deeper