Unstole It by Jim Davies

Unstole It Jim Davies On an old Baroque pillow drops an odd, cold blood of a dead god. Somebody touched broke in the hold, with the original key, and stole it. Breathing on it                  makes falling raindrop things. Smelling it                  allows you…

Blood Birth by Ed Blundell

Blood Birth Ed Blundell We stand on the bare, windswept moorside, In the circle of standing stones, Where the priests are chanting the ancient rhymes, And the cold cuts into our bones. We are deep in the bleak, dark midwinter, And the land must…