#0525

That quiet intensity. The way a sudden rush sparks through me, electric, like he’s touching places he hasn’t touched yet. Heavy. Charged.

An undercurrent of danger. A tension carved from silence and mystery. In my mind, he can be anything: A storm. A secret. A sin I haven’t touched yet.

hang your shoulders up

on the fireplace mantle

uncork the neck

to hang in the pillory

I'm in the jeering audience

throw the first stone

engraved with dove wings

put the key in the

iron maiden

please, Giles

may i carry that for you?

ostracize me

i'll be outside the door

waiting for my penance

leper ridden fingers

keep the stitches torn

can't even feel the

flame torching the body

as the stars are eclipsed

by the pyre

did she forget the regret?

before she joined the crowd

or am i not worth the

double down?

do you people really believe

in witchcraft?

the sheep speaks of leaving

while prostrating before the

shepherds hook

keep your wings feather-down

i'm sorry, Mr. Corey.

this mockery from the albatrosses

screeching saw the weight.