Sitting around the campfire
like different planets
around the sun, they
took their turns
then passed the gun.

The hammer kicked back
like the jab
of a praying mantis, and
still they squeezed
the trigger.

A small pond surrounded
by white trees with red leaves,
dehydrated hearts hung from
thin branches.

The edge of a cliff was just beyond there,
and its face was so sharp
you couldn’t descend it without
slicing yourself open.

The fire turned blue
slowly over the course of
minutes. Easing into itself
as if a mollusk with a new shell.
The smoke showed them varying
versions of hell that projected
themselves across the cloud.

When the bullet was found
it rang out clear and loud, and
they recovered her there
with no flesh on her face.
Through the holes in her skull
was a snake interlaced.

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