You speak in stereo, dual-layered with two mouths
The sheepish one turns to me
The fanged one sings out of your ear
Shaping form to those thoughts you lock secreted
In sinful gloom, spiders’ cobwebs spinning

Tracking the gossamer winkings in the light
My mind dimly feels their whispered and hissed jealousies pricking
Gleefully with angry blade honed and drawn in
Darkness, nursing towards maturity
Cradled by the grotesque bosom of your True Self

My eyes avert,
My soul gives you its back;
It says, “You are no friend of mine.”


Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at

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