after hours museum statues of bare breasted women, stoned into silence silenced by stone, cramped in candle lit corners drip tears for cracked ribs, broken limbs; waxy ghost arms and legs puppet-dance with shadows. From the rafters red winged blackbirds swoop down, build nests in the braids of their once hennaed hair.
Wow, what a prompt! No need to say more. Will let this #PoemsAbout #WaxTears speak for itself. @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk Thanks for: #ReadRepostReply. #PoetsSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky