Vision wants memory. The bone-women were singing in this apocalyptic nightmare of mine, crouched with fleshless hands drumming softly on each other’s skulls, slow-rocking in..
The Harvest Moon was fading behind the peach lace curtain of dawn, and she, that hooded ghost of a once-arrogant woman, bade me sink back..
I won’t be begging you, but I wish you’d join me on my first graveyard walk of the season. We’ll leave at dusk on the..
The silver tongue of that thinning moon was licking me in just the right places, and I crept from my bed like a lust-drunk and..
A midnight fit, it was. A touch of early-spring fatigue salted with a good deal of extrasensory indulgence sent me straight to a well-attended grief ritual for this, our most beloved world. Here, I came upon an ominous spirit..
You’re sure to meet a cackling hag who sits on her highest ribs, dangling her legs and skipping stones in her blood. She’s a trickster,..
Ah, yes. I remember now. This righteous May moon is swelling between my ribs as it always does, lifting these aging breasts a bit higher..
Walk with me, sinner. My cauldron is too heavy to lift, and my athame is dirty and dull from overuse. These ritual robes of mine..
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