The old King wanders the halls of his lonely castle. Sunlight catches dust, daggers in stagnant air. His Ivory roses swell with buds as a gentle snow falls in the grand courtyard.
12 nude witches bask in clouds of opium upon silken cushions, raspberries and roast quail perch here and there on amethyst platters. Sword sheaths spill with pink champagne over oiled lips. A great tiger lounges with a golden chain about his neck, the other end attached to the King’s bloody ankle.
He shuffles by.
Published by Magdalena
Holistic Psychotherapist in New Orleans, Louisiana. Active participant in local spiritual communities and enjoys therapeutic personal writing and expressive art. Mags experiences fashion as empowering adornment and thrives on movement including trapeze arts and climbing anything that feels somewhat stable. When pursuing her degrees in psychology, she minored in Creative Writing.
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