Where the Red Poppy Grows

The night I met my demon, I slipped into sleep like a monk dons heavy robes.   I was twelve years old, on the cusp of womanhood, with multitudes on my mind.  Snow fell heavy outside onto the silent cul-de-sac street, the slick frosted asphalt reflecting cold stars. My leonine guardian angel of girlhood’s yore, Ariel,Continue reading “Where the Red Poppy Grows”

There is But One Flower That Grows in Hell

I kneel under a willow in the spirit-ridden glade. The sky is a dark tapestry shot through with silver threads of star. Shivering, I clutch my jacket- red like scarlet blood- closer, leaning into the crook of a dying tree. The willow’s branches float like serpents across the wind. There is nowhere left to go.Continue reading “There is But One Flower That Grows in Hell”

Lapis Exillis

“Don’t you ever love?” I mock him, that angel of an impenetrable fortress. It is Arab Spring, and his people are lambs to slaughter, fields of the dead, from Egypt to Iraq. “You’re killing them all, malakh ha mavat! You could never love. You’re heartless.” My voice trembles with suffrage. I deny his mercy: heContinue reading “Lapis Exillis”