Tremors

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 drool trails 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]