Dark Dust

She hung with the smell of dry earth,
twisted in amongst forms of herself,
scratching black in the darkness
with long bloodied finger nails.
she mouthed each cry to give it form
but only found the guttural sounds of mourners.
 
The young couple wanted to remodel the cottage,
make it more open plan, party friendly.
The architect said the wall wasn’t structural,
so they played builder.
 
He should have stopped when he found the first cavity,
the lock of hair wrapped around three small bones.
 
With every thud of the lump hammer
her body snapped back into position.
Splintered light seemed to paste flesh
over wasted muscle and decayed sinews.
The couple could only see the macabre,
they missed the escaping spiral of dust
that seemed to move slowly in the sunlight.
 
Angry and cold, absorbing
any source of heat to feed the blackness
that seethed inside her.
She entered her old room
but everything had changed,
lemon drapes and fresh pale wood
decorated with a woodland mural.
 
Her face contorted into a hideous grin,
She had always wanted a baby.