Month: November 2024

two coins for the dead and the sky’s last laugh a witch brews rivers of ink

foam froths forth from tongues older than the bones of trees

a prophet dances in flames to taste the ashes of tomorrow

not birthed but carved from the silver marrow of forsaken moons

ion storm lips holding together the fabric of timespace

ultraviolet her body phasing through the gravity wells of forgotten moons

a hymn to black holes that swallow love and just alike

tables stretch endlessly goblets filled to the brim with the cosmic dark

the sky bleeds violet and the magi each take a sip of soma from the morning star

chaos calls itself wisdom when no one listens a tower of books burns