The Conjuring

Eight stories 

of spiralling staircase 

Grey marble marking 

And a pale hearted fair face 

Ebony ribbons

 run down her back 

White are the cornices 

And not even a crack 

Dizzy the spell 

she wove looking down

Crystal it shattered

The ivory crown 

Six was the number 

On the rusty old door

One was the room 

She could not ignore

Lavish the silk 

In a ruffled grey gown

Boy in her arms 

With horn bearing frown

Coven the name

 of the thin white lace

Haven to all 

was the heart in this place

‘’Come’..she whispered 

In night walking trance

And strobed through the love light

In gossamer dance

Dare not turn

To see the hands that hold

Wispy eyed conjuring

Of mirrored eyed dolls


Constance Shot 2018-06-10 at 21.57.45

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