Sumer's Words from the Woods

In the ceiling’s quiet apex a small flock of black birds circle above my head. Each dropping letters into my ears. One by one, until the fluttering turns into a word or two. Hermes at… Read more: Quill

All the unconscious worlds are dancing shadows and lights between every shade of gray. The dragon man, fairy mother, Hermes speaking between the realms of the living and dead. The pan drying in the dish… Read more: Man’s Tales of Woe