In the blue light of her motherly vision, I glow dim as an ember. And yet she blows her gentle breath on me until I spark. Suffering weighs a ton and smells of gangrene. From the innards of stars I come, foisted out onto a world prepared to devour me. Because of her my flame will grow whiter, hotter, and guide the contemporary pilgrims home.
Day: May 30, 2026
Hunting and Haunting
On the twilight purple river, wolverines hunting and haunting the dreams of rabbits. In the tundra of my heart, sled dogs running over frozen lakes. At the blue blurred periphery, a growing fire gnawing its way through the cold. The fire has a name, and hands like strength and pleasure.
Miniature Moon 