Silk or the sword

The tenderest of truths
is the faintest slip of a lie
A truth withheld
becomes the well of tarnished voices
At break
Effluvia pours free
Drowning dreamer and dream

A truth spoken
Cuts clean
A blade slick with blood

Cut my flesh
A thousand times
I’ll not fester in secret

I’ll be your truth
If you’ll be mine

Heart of Stone

In honor of October:

Groggy, a man blinks the sleep from his eyes. His eyelids are heavy, so heavy, like lifting a dumbbell with pinkies. Bright light sears corneas, squinting, he tries to lift his hands to shield his eyes. His arms! They’re tied down. Looking down the length of his body he sees his hand are restrained in padded cuffs. His shirt is cut open, explaining the chill. This circle of bright light hides the the rest of what feels like a large area. A orange ember flares in the darkness beyond the lights circle.

“Who’s there!, ” the man shouts.

A low voice from the shadows rumbles, “Good, I was afraid I’d get the dose wrong.”
A face thrust itself from behind the top of the Man’s skull. It smiles and giggles. It’s the girl from last night!

“Get me out of here, you stupid cunt, ” the man yells.

” Now, now, “the voice from the shadows rumbles, ” we mustn’t be impolite. Not when she brings us such a unique gift.”

A tall person steps from the shadows, takes the last drag on their cigarette, then stubs it out on the left nipple of the man.

Screams echo out, slamming and reverbing from walls designed to dampen sound.

The person waits. Waits for the Screams to degenerate to sobs.

“Now, the young lady tells me very bad things about you. Let me whisper it in your ear. Young ladies shouldn’t need to hear such things. ”

Leaning down, the person whispers, “You raped her. She pleaded, begged you to stop. But you took and took. She tells me, you are a monster.”

Standing, smiling down at the man, the person cheerfully says, “She tells me you have a Heart of Stone. That is very interesting. I happen to need a Heart of Stone, for my work. ”

“Now, young lady, bring me the bolt cutters, then scury off. No need to get blood all over you, it’s so hard to get out of clothing.” Aside, almost to their selves, “But we must wear clothing, civilization demands it.”

The man pleads, “I have money, you can have it, just let me go, please… Please.”

The person waits for the outer door to slam shut.

” All good and proper, now we are alone. What was it you were saying ” the person cocks their head to the side, like they are listening to someone, ” money?”

“Thank you, that is a generous offer ”

Hope rises in the man, thinking, Money, money will get me out. “Get me to a computer and I’ll wire you it all, just let me go…”

“So generous, but this Heart of Stone, that seems more interesting. ”

” Oh, don’t scream. You so generously offered a gift, so I’ll give you one. I’ll keep you awake and we’ll see it together. I promise, you won’t miss a thing.”

The man Screams as the scalpel parts the flesh of his chest, causing the blood bags forcing new blood in to replace the loss, to dance. But the persons hand is steady.

“See, we just pull back the skin and seperate the muscle… I’m so happy your voice gave out. Don’t worry, bones don’t have any nerve endings, I don’t think anyway. A few quick snaps and we’ll see the heart. ”

The sharp crack as the bolt cutters snap through each rib fills the warehouse.

” There now, the reveal, always so exciting. ” The person lifts the rib cage cutting away connective tissue.

” Oh… ” The person frowns, dejected.
Lifting the heart out of the man’s chest, showing it to him as the last light of consciousness fades. ” See, just flesh, Oh well… ” The person tosses the heart over their shoulder where it lands with a soggy plop. “Win some, lose some…”

The body sits in the middle of the warehouse, staring sightless into the harsh light, the strains of singing coming lightly on the air.

Softly singing, “I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts, fiddly dee…” fades into the darkness.


shallow origination mists
beckon twilight
beyond the slip of moonlight
drinking sublimated shadow
in cerulean twist
listing as sea overtakes this engine of edifice
sacrificed altars where sorrow and rust
war in measure to oblivions cursed dream
simple turnabout
the wheel drift
made present in pale limb
shudder forth
in the breaking light of dawn
empty vessel of night
spilled lifeblood
to let you

He who walks between

In the darkness
comes a figure
painted in hearts blood
lashed to the past and future
suspended between all that was and all that will be
he watches from the shadows
until events are settled
then coats himself in illusion
and ventures forth
to walk a path between
looking for his love
who’ll travel with him beyond the veil
after a lifetime’s skein
mortality drips from fingertips but never touches soul
it has been pledged to service
and love he’s found in a gods embrace
but mortal heart
he searches for mortal touch
to walk hand in hand
into the space between


A lifetime of words spill out
Hearts blood on the page
Desire, want, and need
Logic and emotions in sync
Ruled by nought but the moment
The moment and you
A world of spun glass and long stemmed rose whips
Screams and whimpers
Ecstasy and agony and the float
Feel my flesh, know that I am real
Ask and it will be done


The razor eases close through skin and muscle
Scraped along bone to the sounds of screaming
Terrified into waking
Find vivid hallucination mimic in reality
Each step slivers of skin and bone
Peel crimson from feet
This path of broken swords
This remembering of future
Leg swings out,
the flash of possible, the choice,
The cost
Paid in blood and pain
This path, this choice, this future
All prices paid, more than worth it


I dance a paen to life’s dawns turning.
To storm and wind
To rain and night

I dance a paen to the ever changing wheel
To stillness and cacophony
To roil and smoke

I dance a paen to the flashing blade
To blood and bone
To razor and gasp

I dance

I dance

In stillness, in pain, in fury, in hopelessness

I dance at the turning of the world