Attrition

Yup, those are words alright.

Hooves like shattered glass
are mashed, attached, stitched tight to
starving wisdom’s light;

Alight! The flame-stained
cloth soaked through with ash, once told,
extolled, and left that

not elapsed. Misty
breaths caress the mangled bones:
the fractured, lucent

spines of winter’s corpse;
carved within: a frightful flight,
a dimpled path to

daydream’s end.

Reviews

[E.L. Debbage]

This reminds me of how I find worth in possessions that are worn away or broken, items that hold sentimental value yet are ultimately worthless. I cannot be sure to what your intent was with this but I like how ambiguous it is.
Such a good read and lovely use of language.
- Ellen