By Anna Cheung
Red across black, the blood moon
smeared her lunar cycle across the night
shedding the sky from scarlet to rust.
Babies swaddled in flesh-petals,
bleary eyes beaded with dew-drops.
mouths gaping in silence, arms yearning.
Bleeding hearts hung, heavy
on tender stems, souls dripped in sorrow,
fuchsia hues veined in blue
Blooms of decayed meat
perfumed the air; a putrefying bouquet
stenched in sulfur, sewer and death
A breath of wind
and the flowers swayed
in saddened symphony under the silence
of the crimson moon.