Mysterious

Photography Simon Folkard

His skin white as milk.
With one short, swift, smooth movement,
eviscerated.

Parting flesh coloring red
unfolding like a flower.
Holding tight the knife
feeling his warm skin unfold
he sighed only once.

A flash of regret
she watched how his blood trails joined
for the dance of death.

*a haiku-tanka-haiku poem for #Bloganuary

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