Through the night, the giants play in the burning fields.
There’s a hole in the wall through which you can watch the world fall apart. Shhh. Everything will be alright … More
When truth is the sickness, there isn’t a cure. There are places you can hide, but the city is ever … More
A whisper and the wind will change, and the birds wheel round to shore. Sometimes just the intent of a … More
this howling at the sky is only in my head, trapped in dying flesh and shrinking skin, snagged on teeth … More
hiding, to return later. Maybe. So many years walking this hopeless carpet, watching the grey candyfloss wombs grow heavier, flecked … More
The broken fly describes a collapsing circle around the stuttering bulb and I don’t know what time of what day … More