Tag: Singapore

not druids or sorcerers but a different kind of circle: smiths who harness the magic of the seasons to mend the realms in the aftermath of world-ending wars and infernal blight

and if dreams became currency wouldn’t the ones who live between stained pages be the wealthiest

spring after dark the smell of dreams burning from across the causeway

like startled wild beasts the thrashing of tides as the spring moon undresses

in the wake of a rogue comet a chain of orphaned moons dragged across constellations

your eyes do not betray the culmination of dusks and dawns you have witnessed

queen bee exits stasis and calls to her brethren to be born again

the cycle renews: the smell of death as crows dig into a roadkill carcass

paradise hides from the watchful eye of the city: carried in a pocket deeper than any void

spring at first light a scene of limbs and bedsheets strewn