We used our old teeth as dice
kept score on sloughed skin
And the board on which we played
we marked out on the ground
in freshly spilt blood
barely diluted by our tears
__________
Notes:
1. Written on 26th March, 2019
__________We used our old teeth as dice
kept score on sloughed skin
And the board on which we played
we marked out on the ground
in freshly spilt blood
barely diluted by our tears
__________
Notes:
1. Written on 26th March, 2019
__________everything you say
everything you do
we will remember it
better than you
__________
Notes:
1. Written sometime in February 2020
__________Take a strand of hair
a drop of blood
and a pinch of salt
from a long forgotten sea
Mix it together
with a mouthful of milk
a half-remembered dream
and a lifetime or more of misplaced guilt
Drink it down
close your eyes
and try, try, try
not to sleep
It won’t help, of course. Nothing will. But at least the work involved in it’s preparation will keep you busy, and the effort, perhaps, will allow for the projection of some meaning onto a past where there was none, onto whatever horror it is you’re trying to forget.
__________
Notes:
1. Written on October 14th, 2019
__________Here stands a house where untold idiots discussed a calamitous idea, which mercifully was soon forgotten. None now know what was proposed nor would admit it if they did.
__________
Notes:
1. Written on 12th December, 2019
2. A semi sequel to Tale #86
3. They are both still unmade
4. But one day maybe I will make them
5. And affix them to the walls
6. Of the unsuspecting
7. And undeserving
The Goddess of the Countless Isles was sleeping in one of her many palaces of grace and splendour when she was troubled by a bad dream.
She saw the seas beneath a pale winter moon, frozen so thickly the infinite islands of her domain were joined together as one by the undulating ice. As unsettling as this loss of complexity and separation was, what truly upset her was the way the ice, so pure and clear, reflected the world as perfectly as a mirror.
As the Goddess in her dream walked upon a frozen wave, her footsteps met their own reflection, and another pale moon cast light upon her from below to match that which bathed her from above. It was as if there was no difference between heaven and hell, that each contained the entirety of the other, that all there was was what we already had.
__________
Notes:
1. Written in December 2019
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