A sea of shattered glass
sprawls patiently on the carpet.
Wicked sharp corners dance
on jagged smiles.
An ocean of malice-
taunting, beckoning, waiting.
What moments before was
muscular, a tempest that tore loose
is now glacial and quiet.
Yet it calls,
a wordless, siren wail,
this sea of mine
as it waits at the foot of my bed
knowing
that none dare venture
into its lair and
disturb its blasphemous exultation
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