Every passing year, a dragon’s breath smothering the anguished tundra. I wish I took better care of this once pristine body.
I’ve always held a fascination for ancient mythologies. They are the dawn of the coalescence between art, religion, and storytelling.
Quiet eve beach stollan apple tree lays ashoresevered roots exposedtwo outsiders wonderinghow we fell so far from home
November knocks precipitating a gloomour embrace— “No one’s home!” on the couch, we radiatefall can wait; we mull over sugar, spice, and love
Worker bees gathera new season filled with hopefrom my cubicle—dreams of freedom and travelstung with a droning despair It’s often said that it’s better to work with a view than to be trapped in a dreary, windowless office. Though I sometimes wonder if being able to see what is tantalisingly out of reach is a… Continue reading Honey & Vinegar
Gold replaces greenmadness replaces logicthe ashen treelineis charcoal on a canvaspracticing our death portrait
We are but cobwebsInside a plundered palaceForeign to our hostDrifting on midnight’s zephyrDying to remain instilled
Nipped SomniloquyAn unheard conversationSleep rests in my eye Crumbs caught on the dream-catcherEarly morning prophecies