a flame is passed from hand to hand fire learns the ways of devotion
Month: November 2025
the veil of saints is fed to the fire slowly she rises from dust and ritual a priestess of ash to whom embers bow and wildfires kneel
dawn comes early as the faces of night’s wraiths dissolve in moonwater
smoke script letters rise as ghosts mumbling in alien tongue
none will find me buried beneath layers of subconscious and bones and finally topped off by the bloody rain
the wolves and wild things sing and dance beneath the night sky the autumn moon ripe for the taking
to glow without witness to die without applause a star learns shame when it falls into the sea
in odd tantrums the autumn rain falls at last
moss for hair a cradle of roots for a heart the beast peers wildly through deer skulls scrutinizing its kingdom of green
unmoving eerily still at the bottom of the sea the fish will gather and offer their prayers to a new god who joins them drowned but born again