Our hands over lips – sewn to silence
Our breaths barely breaking the veil
No one wants to get caught
For tremors attract monsters
Always on the prowl
Fingers laced into a single rope
We tiptoe through their trails of drool
In the dark
If we’re lucky, no one will be snatched tonight.
— by anntidote —
Date written: July 18, 2025
Sketch by Anntidote [July 18, 2025]