The moon pours to the heart its white intimacy Of a vaporous dream where passes a beauty, And in the hollow paths where the freshness exhales Adds to the puddles some […]
Read MoreCollaborations
In Flesh & Blood
The angels sing in a choir of sleep that won’t quiet the Beast within It’s Midnight in the tower of black, it’s 3am and the witches are back again In the […]
Read MorePulvis et umbra sumus
Pulvis et umbra sumus (We are but dust and shadow) – Horace – Book IV, ode VI, v. 16 –
Read MoreFleur de Poussière
The threshold to the seance parlour has not been crossed for many moons. The air is intoxicating, filled with the scent of a myriad of fainted roses, rich draperies weighed down […]
Read MoreYour ever true
Dearest, deeply loved Victoria, According to your wish, and by the urging of my heart to talk to you and open my heart to you, I send these lines […] I […]
Read MoreShe recited curses and spoke magic words
Circe, daughter of the Sun, recited curses and spoke magic words, worshipping unknown gods, with unknown incantations, by which she used to dim the face of the bright moon, and veil […]
Read MoreLa couronne effeuillée II
J’irai, j’irai porter ma couronne effeuillée Au jardin de mon père où revit toute fleur ; J’y répandrai longtemps mon âme agenouillée : Mon père a des secrets pour vaincre la […]
Read MoreLa couronne effeuillée I
J’irai, j’irai porter ma couronne effeuillée Au jardin de mon père où revit toute fleur ; J’y répandrai longtemps mon âme agenouillée : Mon père a des secrets pour vaincre la […]
Read MoreLa poussière du jour et la cendre de l’heure
The dust of the hour and the ash of the day Fall down onto our hearts like a bitter rain, As in the fleeting day and ephemeral hour How much love and hope have […]
Read MoreThe one that never thought of me
“What business had I to think of one that never thought of me?” – Anne Brontë – Agnes Grey –
Read MoreOf Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to […]
Read MorePlaythings, dead things
The agony is exquisite, is it not? A broken heart. You think you will die. But you just keep living. Day after day, after terrible day. – Charles Dickens – Great […]
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