Wake, Isabelle Ryan
dappled claret in the dust
shed by shapes that bristle leathery and huge
and utter rusty squawks that score the air.
I stagger back but
of talons rending chunks of earth and flesh
of bloodlust blinking in black eyes
of drooping wattles and threadbare wings.
I recoil from hard hooked blood-shod beaks.
You approach them.
I chance an upward glance and
more stooped figures study from bare branches.
With a roiling gut I wonder
that their claws don’t snap the snag in two.
the ones below flap and shriek
and re-join the committee.
I watch them watching me.
You crouch beside their quarry
and take everything worth taking.
A tilted blur descends and I crumble
doubled over to expel
You stroke my hair
and mutter comfort and
with sticky fingertips
push meat into my mouth.
Isabelle Ryan is a writer from the UK who mostly writes character-driven horror fiction with queer themes.