fool’s gold

crystal ball eyes of piercing clairvoyance,
my fingers reach through your
ribcage, holding fast to that
beating thing.

it strains against the grip,
suffocating into a
faint
murmur.

the cold sets in, a
prophecy unfulfilled.
i gather my cards &
your gold.

blind fool saw only himself
once more.

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Published by

c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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