With fairies, snow falls in he summer, leaves grow green in winter and night gleams with thousand of suns. With fairies, you bathe in flowers with metal thorns. They make deep cuts in your skin, and your smile grows wider with every touch of sharp edges. With fairies, you dance hundred of nights, while ladies in gossamer dresses circle you, their laughter bleeds like daggers. They are air you breathe and wine you drink – a cursed ponds filled with black water, in which you see your distorted reflection. They […]
more...Sweet One
song us a song, sweet one [ so we lead you into the night, filled with bloodied fingers and eyes like stars bathed in half truths and warm lights ] sing us a melody, sweet one [ spellbind us with your dance, capture us with your resplendent youth ] touch our soul, sweet one [ let us deceive you, a beautiful madness hidden behind a blooming rose enchanted into moss and leaves – hungry faces gaze from each mirror ] fill us with a smile, sweet one [ stolen from […]
more...Flickering Light
I was born with flickering light. A tiny lantern under my heart which blinked at the world around it. It attracted the will-o’-wisps and fireflies, the small flame dancing alongside them in mysterious rituals of foggy morns and rainy days. But the world outside the woods in which I was born was not tolerating tiny lights. They came with words and daggers. With oil and axes. And with water; water against the dancing flames. The flickering light was not ready for it. It started to flicker more often, disappearing slowly, […]
more...Fable
through a hole in a wooden fence wonders are silently creeping in the walls are drowning in shadowed kisses fables nest under the windowsills my house is a fairy tale made of raven feathers and owl wings of purring cats and the glow of young suns a secret garden where my dreams bloom with wildflowers
more...Altars of Moss
my path is growing altars of moss sacred eyes of the vernal forest hidden behind the eyelids of leaves kept alive by the resin veins caressed by the silent voice of the wind their nerves shiver – their hearts brims with cradled dreams which bloom with viridescent tears bleed the moon on my altars of moss silver streams carrying the stardust sinking deep into the womb made of roots
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