Tag: David Estringel
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Black Wreaths (a winter’s settling)
This old house,she’s a keeper,hoarding cracks,panes and groans.Where the shadow’s stretch,there’s a fire,it cackles and spitsand tears the cold down.Where…
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Amas Veritas
Blue blushof midnight skin—cold flamebeneath fingertipsand wanting lips—stokes fireand love spellsunder Moon’sicy ring.Burn with mean houra minutea second moreand fadeawayinto…
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Indigo
The curtains pullcross the landscapebehind my eyes—the way they doon days like this—emergedfrom sleep,from splashes of waterin the basin,and black…
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Sitting Shiva
Love (this love) has left the room feet first— a procession of embers and ash. Illusions. Delusions. Damnable oxygen thief! So goes the stuff of paper hearts and fiery tongues, of promises—hollow—…