poets of imaginary laughter, with blazing, emerald immortality.
I had a dream last night of a man who could cure people of their ailments by evoking the inner animal within them. He would whisper something to the sickly, and they would freeze; their skin growing ashen and out from underneath them, an animal with black fur would run away. "People… Continue reading Tainted and Backward
//circa February 2015 The clouds looked like ash against the pre-sunrise sky. Two restless souls stirred in their respective twin sized beds, separated by a great divide, both wary of the preceding night and all of its humanistic highs and lows. This strange, beautiful view is what Fernando, as he likes to be called, gets… Continue reading Sunrise