Samael – Page 3 – Dances with Tricksters

Belfry

I was twelve winters old when I discovered his name. Samael. It slips off the tongue like gall, bitter and sharp like the crushed herbs and tinctures he has dominion over as the angel of poison. I pulled it from the air and my imagination, only to learn it was a true word God hadContinue reading “Belfry”

Moonlight and Darkness

He is moonlight and darkness, with shadow dripping like snakeskin from his pale marble flesh. A cold star on the horizon that looms like a dead messenger. Soft lines under his eyes bespeak ages. The cut of his jaw is sharp as a skull, and his glacial eyes are the blue of fox fire, ancientContinue reading “Moonlight and Darkness”

Vespers

The distance between us is a hair’s breadth. I can taste the salt on his skin, heady with exertion. He smells like woodsmoke and temptation. We stand in the bowels of Hell, in a garden fed by underground springs and earthly fires that burn like rivers aflame. A cavernous shaft wends its way to morningContinue reading “Vespers”

Shattered Reflection

I am in that between place, beside the sea, on the border of worlds. A storm brews above. An elegant skyscraper, all black polished sides like a stone, juts up before me. Rain slicks the surface of the window pane that I stare into. I touch the caustic surface, feeling the slight acid tingle ofContinue reading “Shattered Reflection”

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”

Your Only Doll

Samael pours a shot of vodka and kicks the scuffed heels of his boots onto the bar. He yawns obscenely loud, curtain of dark hair fringing his face in shadow. I tense, drawing away from him on my barstool as he leans back, grinning like a feral hound “What’s a doll to do on aContinue reading “Your Only Doll”