Who you are with       does not define       who you are.             Rather it defines       who you can become,     from the rubble...

It seems my life is crypticalalways forever ellipticalas I again orbit around myselfanother unread book on a shelf All of these secrets kept withina true bounty of virtue and sinyet left here forever unreadhiding behind words still unsaid A life lived...

My gothic romance caresses midnightWith a sigh and a weepMacabre lingers in the cemeterytalking to spiritsWhispering secrets to the dead, listening A darkened world beckonsand I become enamored by the oddbeguiling and honest, they covet a misfitintriguing the bleak in...

August 18, 1788    Mon Cher Donatien    I hung in a content silence. Your Japanese ropework held me up, off of the ground. The long lengths of rope culminated above me... all knots out of reach. But plainly visible. So...