December 21, 2019

– Eros: have you never felt
Piety for the statues?
These chrysalides of stone,
Some formidable race
In an eternal, unutterable hope.
The sleeping craters of their mouths
Utter the black ash of silence;
A copious shroud of Calm
Falls from the columns of their arms,
And night flows from their eyesockets;
Victims of Destiny or Mystery,
In magnificent and terrible cocoons,
They wait for Life or Death.
Eros: have you never perhaps felt
Piety for the statues?
Piety for the lives
That will not strew nor rend your battles
Nor gild your fiery truces;
Piety for the bodies clothed
In the solemn ermine of Calm,
The luminous foreheads that endure
Their marble wreaths, grand and pure,
Weighty and glacial as icebergs;
Piety for the gloved hands of ice
That cannot uproot
The delicious fruits of the Flesh,
The fantastic flowers of the soul;
Piety for the eyes that flutter
Their spiritual eyelids:
Mysterious fish scales,
Dark curtains on rose visions…
For looking so far, they never see!
Piety for the tidy heads of hair
– Mystical haloes –
Gently combed like lakes
Which the storm’s black fan,
Black and enormous, never thrashes;
Piety for the spirits, illustrious,
Carved of diamonds,
High, clear, ecstatic
Lightning rods on pious domes;
Piety for the lips like celestial settings
Where the invisible pearls of the Host gleam;
– Lips that never existed,
Never seized anything,
A fiery vampire
With more thirst and hunger than an abyss.
Piety for the sacrosanct sexes
That armor themselves with sheaths
From the astral vineyards of Chastity;
Piety for the magnetized footsoles
Who eternally drag
Sandals burning with sores
Through the eternal azure;
Piety, piety, pity
For all the lives defended
By the lighthouse of Pride
From your marvellous raw weathers:

Aim your suns and rays at them!

Eros: have you never perhaps felt
Pity for the statues?

Delmira Agustini


December 21, 2019


While barefoot for the MRI, to establish the cold chance of pregnancy the doctor asks —
are you sexually active?

I say Yes. Then —
Sorry, no,
not with a man.

She frowns, form dangling —
I don’t follow.

Breath —
not active with a man.

She touches pen to page,
lifts it.

I draw in all the air —
Same-sex partner.

She stares, nods.
Smiles —
I’m unclear what to put down.

Oh —
Just write no.
Shaking my head to
clarify the negative.

We stand in wide silence
for a full minute.

She asks —
What if I just write abstaining,
is that appropriate?

My face pinches a smile,
molasses-veil embarrassment.
Backless paper gown gripped
almost shut
with one hand —
the other splayed on my face
like an octopus
constringitur in morte —
but I think abstinence suggests
self-imposed restraint?

She smiles,
Writes —
in small, neat letters.

Dawn Watson

in a void

December 21, 2019

Darkness is a strange thing — it is both infinite and confining; it holds you tight in its grasp, but it holds you suspended in a void. Silence operates in a similar way. Slowly the two combine to become a threat.

Reggie Oliver
Come Into My Parlour

Christmas Gift Idea Age 3 +

December 21, 2019


December 21, 2019

Witches see to things best sorted by magic: sorrows of the heart, troubles of the mind, regrets of the flesh…

Ami McKay
The Witches of New York

Book Lovers

December 21, 2019

He was born to be a pirate…!


December 21, 2019

Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame.

W.B. Yeats
The Land of Heart’s Desire