1
I wished to read once again those incomprehensible stories of lives undone by a glance, a promise made before no significant company.
2
The prolonged slither and click of the beads dedicated to Green Tara (image of the Girl Prince): their coolness and the scent of sandalwood.
3
How could I not take it as some kind of omen when, one after the other, two small birds flew, or were tumbled by the sudden breeze, against my chest?
4
Mould grew upon the food not accepted: I remembered the drakaina too numb with alcohol to transmit, hiding the meal that had been carried to her.
5
Marius poured blond hair through the circular gateway in the tree trunk (eye socket through which I gazed): within the bower it appeared as coiling rays of light.
6
The fox no longer outside my office: it had given a sign of disinterest when I remarked that I must work by starlight in order to make love in the day.
7
Each attempt at heathen government defeated: we exist through wars that would have made Pound rock with laughter.
8
No history but the history of secret societies: a contract agreed before the puddles in the woods, the snake I rested my foot upon.
9
The ground dense with roots, standing proud of leaf dust, such poor soil: nature gives the sigils we use to glitterbomb the city.
10
Purposeful crow, I gaze through a tongue of flame at the feather you shed: the needle of the compass points toward the star-goddess.