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you are more beautiful than all of the skeletons in my closet. I can barely see you now, but I know that you are there, like glabella fantasies your object holds permanence even though you are now out of sight. Let’s follow the lover’s path that Romeo and Juliet’s footsteps have trodden into the ground. The night life in this necropolis is wonderful. You guide me to a patch of dirt beneath a grand oak tree dressed in Spanish moss and say that you have been saving this spot for me. Our lips meet. You taste like marble and grey. Perverted poltergeists peak from behind shadows trying to steal a glimpse of our beauty. We are two necromancers with a bone yard for a bed, bringing back to life the ghosts of grave yard girls that died virgins. I told you that we would be together forever, and I plan on keeping my word. There is gunpowder in my hourglass,

Black Fox Literary Magazine Issue #3  

The Winter Issue of Black Fox Literary Magazine featuring new fiction, poetry, non-fiction and photography.

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