Smoke and Mirrors

How often she has taken me to her lips,The taste of honey-smoke dreams wafting,Drifting like handfuls of dripping arias,Intoxicating, the poisonous laughter,So I, enthralled and blissful, seek,Her incandescent eyes reflecting eternity,Of the hollow of my soul.

A Sort of Danse Macabre

In fiery tongues of the ancient fireling,Dances the ghost of the Magician's Daughter,and her paramour, the starry-eyed Owl King,Their zephyrus song-revelry growing louder,Summon shadow-laughter, crackling kindling,While the warlock trapped weeps to be without her,Her, who lies in darkness, unseen fate-weaving,Whisper prayers for forgiveness in spring showers,Magic made real only through painful living.

11:22PM

Jittery and anxious, he played over their conversation in his head for the seventy-third time. There was definitely something to it, right? He wasn't overthinking things - this was perfectly normal behavior (for whatever passes for "normal" nowadays, right?). He carefully typed out his thoughts, the haptic feedback turning every word into a heartbeat. SENT … Continue reading 11:22PM

Cutting Ties

It’s an awful life cycle, Love, Strangers meet, like the only two people waking a dark, hollow world. Exulting in companionship, soft laughter does it’s work to tie their bodies closer together in conspiratorial intent, forming a fledgling friendship that shimmers into faint illumination, growing brighter brighter. That friendship which burns so brightly, white-hot in … Continue reading Cutting Ties

The Sighs That Remain Still Breathes Poetry to Me

What had become of my friends in this city of memories, Who laid hands to my life and spun delicate reality: Where now goes the eloquence of that wordy smith by the sea? What of that cleverly motherly poet-visionary? My dear brother, and his lovely wife, a blossoming fairy? The venerable old leader's quest, manic … Continue reading The Sighs That Remain Still Breathes Poetry to Me