the bubbles of methane
form
in the fetid bog
like the bulbous mouths
of frogs.
skeletal branches
like the hands
of the dead
reaching for the warmth
of human flesh.
the silvery light
of the moon
against the cold air
dancing
in the bare treetops.
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Exquisite!
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just having images flash in my head today. The story has control over my head so these brain shards are all that exist.
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