I am the marker of his violence,
a placeholder.
His greed to be endless
and clean.
I am the clay tossed out,
holding his imperfections.
I am the sky-cloud,
lacking permanence.
Tag: creative writing
Your pith is
creepy-sweet,
darling.
A Lokean Devotional Vignette
“Writers are the strangest freaks.”
“Relating?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Writers often break boundaries, which I adore about them,” Loki sparks back.
Ink spider
drops
spreading
new eyes
I see in the dark.
starlight held
drawn to center
remembering my devotion
through the seams
full heat
the gavel fell
softened by sheets
and his strange ways
inside
my voice cracks outward
shell torn, shattering the quiet
I lift
I fly
flaring black wings in the sunlight