RushAching, breaking, shaking(faking).But honey, you made meyours for the taking.tumbleweeds clungto my eyelashes and teeth,so brittle and bitter that Icouldn't speak.so when you swept awaythe debris, I fell hard, and now we'restumbling -Singing, winging, flinging,(stinging).But darling, I can't takeyou are bringing.cobwebs tangledin my hair and nails,so itchy, sticky, and Ithrashed in my sleep.so when you brushedout the knots and burls, Ithought you were the smoothestthing I have ever seen -Wanting, flaunting, taunting(daunting).But sweetheart, I'm not worththis tender haunting.dust settled
The King, the Queen and the Fool - ProloguePrologue'Then what is it?''It's just that she is so very... young, sir.' Andrew struggled for words.'She is a pretty girl. They grow up into beautiful women.''You would hardly want her Royal Highness marrying a man she's met once at the age of fourteen.''Captain!' James' voice had a lash that made all men hold their tongue. The monarch observed the young man in front of him, letting the silence stand. He flinched involuntarily as his eyes fell on the healing wound cutting through the soldier's right eyebrow, falling down the bridge of his nose and lightly touching his cheek. It spoiled what could have been considered a handsome face
Confession of Betrayal"There was a time when I feared you, avoided you, for what you were - before I knew the person you were. A time, even, when I believed that because of that, you would have to die. That you were evil because of that irrational fear, and that all things 'evil' must be eradicated." She sighed deeply, clutching his hand for support as she spoke the truth that she'd never told him."When you first spoke to me, and I answered, I lied. I was willing to sacrifice my own morals if it meant reaching my goal. Killing you."He watched her expressionlessly as she confessed what she had meant to tell him long ago, but had never had the chance - or perhap
The Confirmation Name of Pi...The Confirmation Name of Pinta, a Niņa, was (Santa) Mariaastrolabe symbols sing of star-path purple nights,wave-lapped, wooden-hulled, and stinking of pissyet bridging unknowns like chemical tests--empirical voyages, west-by-northwest intofutures unseen by science, by chemists,by Iroquois medicine--the greatest amongmen pass by paradigm, saying no to conventionand yes to this artifice, marking the anglesof Jibril the angel and the cohort of Throneswhile lions and fountains and spires (oh my)made the desert alive with melons and datesand the whirl of a dervish's star-patterned skieswhich solaced the souls of sacrifice
On the Night of the Lunar E...On the Night of the Lunar Eclipseyou should not have gone outsideto watch the red-rimmed moon hiding behind spiderweb clouds, or to drink the duende from the windas it passed through your dark hairsieve—at least, not alone, because the poisonwhite needleworkoutshone the weeping moon and the distant heat lightning.You should not have gone outside aloneteasing through shadows of octoberish trees, ruddy in reflected light,ember-eyed and naked to the wind, which fanned the fireflies to mock the stars, all emboldened by the sanguine moon.The stones, in turn, mocked your nakedness.I saw you on the pinewood bridge,
UntitledThere is something in the aira musky scentfleeting colourswaningjoyful laughter reverberatingIt's cold outside.Come, and watch the sun setsky set ablazemythical fireof loveNight has already fallen.Chilling bones.Your embrace is warmstark contrastinto a void I fellmemories shatteringFreezing, wind picks up.Teeth clattering.Nevermind me.What about the moon, I wonder?My chance passed me bymy fault, reallyI cried once onlya breezeCan't you see the stars tonight?
Sta.sh
