I wish it were deadly enough to give me one last kiss after which I could honeslty say goodbye and leave in peace.
Not completely in peace.
But still with a sweet,
and sparkling,
and tickling
of life
that makes it possible to to greet death
with lips just kissed
and skin just touched
and needs just satisfied.
I wish it were deadly enough to grant me one last dance that would be the best dance of all my dances.
A dance that would give me
a melody stuck
in my head
In my thoughts
in my veins
while I go
into the forest
and die
with high notes prickling in my throat.
I wish it were deadly enough for life to be special just one last time.
For vanilla and candles
and violet and stars
and wine and a spinning
and getting lost in his eyes
and burning up a night
full of promises for time
that could have been ours.
I wish it were deadly enough for more to happen than an empty wall to stare at.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 