Rebecca
Rebecca
~
in black
Gothic
advances
down the middle
of the street
oblivious to traffic
~
dark mists
and Avalon
the perfect rupture of sky
~
from her fingers
black threads
spin skirt
and widow’s weeds
~
black painted nails
blackened sockets of eye
her lips black also
from a feast of berries
~
~
All my best.
Jane
nichepoetryandprose 
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