Nepthys’ Dreams

golden eyes lined with khol
nails tap against the glass
expectant
waiting for him to arrive

staggering through a stagnant stream
a cloud of gnats rises
a canopy above his head

she is lucky, she thinks
swathed in rich silks
every inch of it a flourish
bespeaking her honored place

serendipity, they said
when she fell upon
the necromancer’s scythe

now she is his for eternity
waiting for him to arrive
to bring her the spoils
of his deadly obsession

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