Since then, the air tastes Of mince pies And mulled wine. Winter snow, Skin white, Tickles my nose With a faint, floral perfume. Since then, the sky glows A glossy rouge, and the streets Curve like a woman’s thighs. The sparrows sing In girlish trills, and the doves Talk in a lover’s whisper. Since then, … More All the World Makes Me Think of You
Your touch Lights a flame Whose drunken tongue Slides across my chest, Whose feverish hands Grasp me In a hot embrace. You ask me Why I’m silent. But your words Are half-deafened By the crackle of fire In my veins. I feel it Smolder in my skin And stifle My breath. You gaze down With … More Your Touch
Tulips spring From the morbid earth, Their leaves fleshy and green. One by one, Their petals splay, Tender to smell And to touch. And all the while The sun rises On weepy skies And wind-choked streets. Brown and decrepit, The grass lies low, As bulbs beyond count Slumber in ground below. Alone, The tulips stand … More Before Their Time
A porcelain face lives On the ceiling above my bed. When I lie back, I see Its blue gaze Stained into the sheetrock, And I wait And wonder when The stare will stop. Soon I fall asleep To the caress Of its breath on my brow, And fingers, I imagine, Trace paths through my hair … More Only Sweet Memories
Past the thorny brush In Oakwood Hollow Lies a silver pool Bathed in starlight. Shadows Dance while the streams froth, And a bitter wind scampers Among the leaves. A lonely traveler stops To wipe his beaten brow. The path has lost him And his wits have left him, For in circles he walks, Around and … More The Silver Pool in Oakwood Hollow
Frosted lips swim Through the glittering Grottos of my dreams While pale fingers beckon From under the violet waves. A siren Coos, its voice A caramel ooze Down my throat. Overhead A pair of lashes Flutter. They wink And vanish. My head spins As does the sea, down Down in a spiral skirt Of froth and … More The Glittering Grottos
A Youtuber named Lucifer’s Nephew has just produced a narration for my story The Collector of Sorrows. If you liked the original story, take a listen to his video. Give him a sub and explore some of his other videos.
The pariah dons A porcelain smile, Cracked at the corners, Where his clay lips Fall as gentle As the morn, piece By piece. He walks In costumes cut From the same cloth That holds you Close. While it welcomes And warms you, The thread rubs his shoulders Raw. The pariah Stares out of two sinkholes … More The Pariah
A jeweler digs Through his glittering wares And desires to keep The fairest of all. His fingers Feel all their crystal faces, Attuned to every bump or blemish Like a spider’s leg In perfect sync With every tremble Along its gossamer web. Yet, H finds nothing But glassy bodies Smooth as skin Shaved bare. If … More The Jeweler’s Wares
Beyond the mountain pass Lies a trail bathed In milky starlight. Mossy trees Hold the road With gnarled hands Clothed in silver And green. Pretty, pink Flowers bloom at your feet. Their soft scent Tickles your tongue. You Taste neither lilac Nor lily. Death Coats every fleshy bud. You hurry Your pace. Flowers fade As … More Beyond the Mountain Pass
He Who Wanders 