Category: Poetry

Words, the blood of poets. Slick, wet, hot, pouring over the page in a curtain of sultry satin red.

in the grip

you are one breath away from being in the grip of my hunger.

just one.

one breathe is forever.

it’s long enough to feel fear.

convinction,

anticipation.

desire,

doubt,

surrender.

one breath is long enough to meet my eyes

and after that

you have no time at all.

wisp

it is a mercy
and memory

a dream
sparked in the passing of hubris
and the sweetness of light.

dwell.
desire.
decide.

Ari

in the shadow of a minotaur

I came across a supposition.

    that the difference between a maze and a labyrinth

    is a matter of the heart.

you can get lost in a maze.

    but in a labyrinth

 so long as you go forward,

          you will find the center

if we agree with this supposition

then we must follow the red threaded question it holds

is your heart a maze

   holding captive 

      poor adventurers

incapable of solving it’s mystery

or

a labyrinth

  home to just

        the one

who put their hand to the wall

   closed their eyes

       and walked