Read Poetry: The Fall, by Lucy FitzGerald

A cloud of smoke haunted us
until an empty gale blew it away
A susurrus of dead leaves and poison dioxide
I sat silent
benchside
cess
benchside
sycophants
A ménage à trios of social decay
And while I was breathing
Death’s frozen kiss
they cradled their own disgrace
My company
a cigarette
snug between bones
I drift away
taken up by the death shroud
of mixed Autumn and cyanide
Falling

Until
something sweet
something warm
a candle in the pit
We ran to a campus cubicle
where we lined
lines on Lovecraft
Remnants blow away
with autumnal foliage
As my torments ripple
my eyes open.