Wordle #74

Week 74

A girl stricken by madness.

Her petrous womb sags

In its crinoline cage,

In a scorn emboldened

Not by merit but by ornamentation.

She is fragile, beautiful

A lily amongst swine.

She is only twenty-three

Driven by chaos

And condensation,

Tears occupy theĀ gist

Of her feverish youth.

She is a belljar,

Full of vinegar

And disparate parts.

Her fertile heart siphons exaggeration,

Men with complications and courtesies

Men in white coats and paper shoes

Accessible but inscrutable

Like a needle’s grinning eye.

A jaundiced darkness sups

At her brazen dreams.

Voices tumble in from the vents,

Shrill and unmanageable.

She listens through osmosis,

Vague and patient.

They bury her in a blanket

Starched to parchment,

Her cracked lips shucking

A licentious moon.