a kindling of oak

an old moment now. more may follow

The King of the Wood lies broken beneath the shadow of the King. Long live the King.


The King of the Wood lifts the crown from the body of the King. Long live the King.

Spring is coming.


The barbed vine coils about my cheek and brow with welcome pulsing slither. The long spines stretch from my fingernails, finger length, piercing glitter-gloaming. The taste of light on leaf swims in my veins.

Claws to catch the soul, and hooks to bind. Debt to self of guide for deaf and blind.

I trace the lines of the mask which names me. Behind my eyes once more burn conflagrations.



Spring is coming.

Reviews

[Joli Dy]

"The taste of light on leaf swims in my veins."
I see you and you don't know how much I miss you in this moment.