The Attic

attic-1 (1)

It kneels by a bedside,

It kills without remorse,

and in a pool of moonlight, feasts upon a corpse.

Its coiled tongue scoops up blood into

Its open maw,

Tendons slide off the bone,

Its talons rip and claw.

Once the carcass is plucked clean,

It bundles up the rest,

and creeps up the hidden

ladder to Its attic nest.

copyright Oct 2017 Deanie Roman

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