Tag Archives: Lucifer

He was wreathed in garlands when we left: white anemone, irises, hyacinth and columbine.  All the blooming colors of paradise pressed against his golden brow.  Petals dislodged when he moved, a graveyard angel given life, so perfect he must have been carved of marble.  His skin scintillated like stars in the morning light and theContinue reading “Return of a King”

For young girls, lo, we are lambs, and hence, lions to guard us.  For young women eat apples, and men become serpents, no longer protectors, but snakes.  Thus the seasons turn, and angels fall out of love for girls. The girl is a towhead, barely eleven, and she has been dancing with angels on needles sinceContinue reading “Lucifer and the Lamb”

I was perhaps nine or ten, imagining places in far off galaxies, like some Will Wheaton tucked into bed with space ships and fairies. Why God picked my imagination to become Hell, perhaps I’ll never know. Do angels sift through souls above and choose the ugliest to inhabit the fragilest of shells, tithes to theContinue reading “Prime Directive”

It’s evening, and we’re both drunk as stoned birds, and you look like a young Hannibal Lecter and stink of corpses and rotting roses. I’m in bandages and heels, I cut myself on your broken bottles again, maybe because I hate myself or maybe because I hate you and I want you to see yourContinue reading “Addict”