A sutured scar, the edges joined by cotton wire.
The bells began to ring and slowly drawled out to a dim hum that remained.
He, like a hollowed-out tree.
Or a vacant cave, calling upon and conjuring.
Her fingertips, now blackened to midnight, and unable to stir ashen cinders.
The provocative, rousing intoxication watered down to the dreary, prosaic channel.