A Soliloquy
To stop, and write no more; ay, there’s the scrape, for in that lack of prose what tales aren’t told.
DAHAB 2006
Turquoise and citrine and gold and ruby… ruby red, crimson red, blood red, red sun, red clouds, red everywhere.
A Love Poem By Ahab Candomblé
By Colonel G.R. Tomaini
IVI SELF
HOMELESS BY PRAYER
THE DEMON AND MAN
Man: "Why must we surface these shadows that are so simple to move and bend, like metal bends under heat?"
Demon: "The very furnaces you seek are not so far from your inquiries. You have dissolved your own will in the face of your father's
