Sublime

I turn into a theorising black crow.

tangential

And this time, with a wrenching crack, the knife shattered and the blade fell in pieces to the ground, to glitter on the stones that were still wet with the rain of another universe.

There are a number of poems that share that leitmotif, that questioning of identity and reality. Those are the strongest.”

anomie

his skin, too, was dark, and his eyes seemed purple or brown, very softly coloured behind his glasses.

Sic!

not. Added to that, my own fragmentary impressions gleaned from my time in the Hades matrix,