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Sarah Rose // Features Editor
John Pachkowsky // Illustration

Endless night runs its zoetrope
before me
a two-faced god
moonlight

starlight

Follow the eyes like spider webs
between four walls
in a hall of mirrors
backwards

forwards

Frenzied soul still drunk on communion wine
steeped with the stench of blood
smeared across this body like warpaint
guiding holy Moonlight!
pull the thread tight
always forward
never left

right

Ariadne, Kos, some say “kosm”
alien emotion. The unseen
beast incapable of grief
gravity is just a theory
great ones that ebb and flow by the moon
clockwise

anti-clockwise

metamorphosis

I once believed the red pumice moon was a clock
stone erodes, the blood dries
her body lay curled into a shell
left with only the impression of a hand on a warpath

Sarah Rose

Features, Humour, Literature Editor

As a chronic over-sharer, this feels unfair.

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