It's Still Life

The Bones of Sickness

Her complexion is gusty grey.
She’s the face of rooted

weariness and boredom —
the bones of sickness.

She closes her eyes
on her own froth, darkness

filling her ears as she
sleeps with captive shadows.

Sickness is a dark strife
of crumbling candles.

Her lustre is uncoupled,
a stammering pale flesh.

for Red Wolf Prompt #362