11-12-2010, 12:27 PM
Beautifully sinister piece. I like this kind of poem, where the darkness doesn't bathe the page in blood and gore, but quietly insinuates, hinting at human perversion, horrors beneath the surface, like a Hitchcock film. The last line is nicely cynical, and rounds off the poem well.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe