Death of a Rose in her eyes 031120
misstree hooks in flesh and
hooks in flesh and
dear lord, the hooks in their flesh have me captured
as if it were my flesh being pierced
and mastered
and meat being hung by two points of ecstacy.

they are icarus in flight,
bloody and transcendent,
and i drink deep the pain in their silvery wings
in empathic exaltation
as they soar.

(written fall 2000, lot of fun to read.)
Doar of my tendons in her grasp.

(and might have thought the following is a fluff page or such, and i can't recall asking you to, but i will anyway, if you should deign to do it, it would give me cold terror pleasure. will you contribute to my


ms teak i will indeed, though i am a bit presed for time and pressed for wine that normally flows much slower... have patience, and i will attend. 031120
the thorny it doesn't have to be an immediate happenstance, wine lover, for the page is getting quite scrollishish.

mt methinks i will have to print it and curl up with shiraz and christmas lights and earthen fruits to properly peruse, i would not miss the chance to savor something of that magnitude and nature in its most star-decked fullness. 031120
scorpion heart a punishment i nearly got at school....
a punishment i DID get at work.....
terrible, terrible word!
Doar yes, it is suspension of promises, dangled from talons. 040118
what's it to you?
who go