Blue waters waltz across meadows in dance  unfolding rainbows as sunlight breaksthrough prisms painting the sky  carving paths through velvet greenin the valley, all in nature’s faith 0

I write the dark… because that is where all my friends are and dark is to love, because life isn’t easy the dark is honest burning brighter with intimacy of a candle, and your tracks longing to be followed to your secret garden, beneath stone, cold dead 0

…my obsession…cold coffee and cigarettes turning to ash. My fingers clinched around the quill’s flesh, penning ink on the dark side, slowly a minuet. The coffee reflecting each stroke I make, dragging the shaft…oozing in my mind, sluicing my ink in paragraphs, a meticulous dance with torrents of cold coffee and cigarettes 0

“Tell me,” whispered the voice from the shadows, so close it might have been my own thoughts given tongue. My hands always cold, “when did I first taste the ink.” a midnight long ago, when I dipped my finger into the bottle to press the stain of it against my lips. So as I could […]

…you don’t know, until you hear it…your mind, unraveling helter-skelter, as the needle of your mind skips, ringing in the void, bringing in the sling-blades, as you reap the innuendoes, in rhythm echoing the dark’s prologue, last minuet ghosting…untamed and raw, tasting menthol cigarettes  0