“The Devorah of Reims” is a novel about “split-division”. That is, it is about a young girl, named Devorah, whose life consists of everything being only “half-way” achieved. Everything is “half-way” for her, as her life continues to be a game of “Tug-a-war” between two…
You have love that surrounds you,As two arms that have closed upon you,I have locked you as a shape,I now love you in this place.Your rosy cheeks are my dessert,Your barren words are its sweetness. I describe,With a voice so cherished,The roundness of a cheek,…
Tipped into thy divine mouth,Like Heaven draining through an hourglass,Of thy heavenly form, with no crudenessAt all, to the beauty of serpents. I am in love with a sin,To make love with the surge of emotion,To make love with a woman of my nightmare,Of all…
Your dreary web of shades,Falls into my place,From the world’s hidden face,As we stand beside a banquet and its host,Placing each memory to our shoulders,Hoisting its intolerable presence. Oh, beauty.With thy lavender scent,From attire born to beckon.You have a harmony to your voice,And a grace…
Q: What you propose in your scenario is that flesh has a Necromantic emotive to it. Do you wish to elaborate? A: Necromancy is the emotion, or emotive, that arises from an inability to forget those who have died. This is to say that we…
Here, I shake to know,The dreariness in thou.Why are there those who doubt?Why are there those who say against?Are we not to be?Is there love at all between us?I question it, for doubt has strungMy torment up, for the world to seeThe darkness of us.…
Q: To recite what you’ve said: you believe that Socialism is merely Nature’s guidance of the Sapient into death? A: Not only that, for I believe it to be the proof of God, and the proof of Darwin’s theory. Q: Would you explain? A: Darwin…
I spit upon, modesty’s shoulders,And loosen a strap, from where came a blouse,A shirt, a camisole, of so many varied names,A top, and it is let free.For breasts, to be exposedBeneath undergarments. Love lies weeping, beneath your blue eyes,As this magnificence, and joyCreates thunder in…
Have we felt the urge to swim? The both of us; in raging currents, have we forced ourselves out of line with a scenario? A dismay. A tragedy. A disorientating vision that has made promise after promise turn to failure. Why, my sweet Eveline, has…
Here, we breathe, disaster,With our voices, set on high,As death, surrounds us,And our might, has departed,To a stranded shore. I am in love, only with myself,A blessing, that has made, me wishful,A curse, that has made, me lonesome.What have I, turned upon,Where will I, turn…
