cirque de la nuit


April 2018

Don’t Think

You cannot fathom
So don’t try

Trust me
Believe me
When I show you

The jagged scars.

Even if I don’t

Even if you never touch the
Pulsing wounds in my soul


Believe me.

I am The warrior.

The dull red blood
Of men who opposed me
Adorns my face

The crushed bones of
The undead
Grinds beneath my heel.

When I welcome you
Inside my Nefreteri palace.

I want you

To wear your leathery skin
Or taste your salty lips

The needs of my kind
Are few


Red Bone

At night the world shivers
and shudders
with cold exhales
of uncertainty

Its skin ripples
and heaves
with tainted perfection

undeserving penance paid
for our existence.

we were young once
digging red earth
with our bare fingers

searching for stones and bones

what blissful oblivion
is youth–
when you don’t have
to know
and if you do know
its a tragedy of horrors.

Now we search the world over
trying to obtain
a mere semblance
of the peace
of the curiousity
of the freedom

we found in red bones.

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