I used to be a poet.My words were traded in marketplaces like pieces of gold.Merchants bought my verses for as much as they paid for saffron and Indian jade.Now I am old...drunk on wine and candle fum...
I was, a near grown man, sat in his dank, dark and rickety digs, feverishly hovering about the glare of a computer screen like a disorientated moth, one searching for a flaming light of recognition fr...
(pl. ) of Moth
Dad?" Jesus asked."Yes, son?" God replied."Do we still have any wrapping paper?" Jesus asked."No, we don't. I used it all to make butterflies," God answered."Butterflies?" Jesus asked bewildered."Yes,...
Conner raised an eyebrow. 'Who told you
The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame. He might get burned, but he's in the game. And once he's in, he can't go back, he'll Beat his wings 'til he burns them black... No, The Moth don't care when...
I discovered in nature the non utilitarian delights that I sought in art. Both were a form of magic, both were a game of intricate enchantment and deception.