when the gossamer of sleep steals the senses
a beguiling call rings; the branches tremble
a crimson raven slips through the open window
hallowed shadow, clothed in wind and lunar dust

my dreams – a maddening labyrinth; a beast awaits

the bird leans, its eyes like holes
my wrists – an open pond of life
its beak taps and prods and spears
the murmur of the trees summons a mare

a pitch black horse
poking her head through the veil of darkness
dead eyes glaring, nightmares ushering in

my dreams cascade with oily darkness
when rubies ooze from pierced flesh
the feathers brim, it nips and flickers
coral and rubies, blood and sweat

it guides my pulse, it drips with delight
the bird’s eyes roll, it sinks so deep
the child of the witching hour, a sanguisuge
leaving rimes as she goes

claws and thorns
teeth and leaves
bite into my lifeline
burrowing into the moss that covers my skin

nails and branches
wooden beaks and iron feathers
slip into my heart, coiled in leaves

the forest fills my marrow
absorbs the skin and drinks the eager flesh
resin oozes into blood puddles

claws and thorns
teeth and leaves
I sink into the night like roots in the damp earth
in the cold embrace of the midnight

so delightfully far from the light

my bride, carved in stone
purity stained with blood-red rainfall
crimson tears smeared on the pale cheeks
her eyes sewn with marble thread

my lover, so alive
playing on the mute chords of silence
in the vermilion garden
where life was trapped, and enslaved

my beloved
quiet like unborn storm
dead for the world, a petal lost in the old herbarium
hidden and concealed

we do not need a god’s viscera
nor the goddess’ womb
to bloom with yearning, to drown in our own black pond
bury the sweet hope and latch to pain

to grow into each other
stone and flesh
deep hush and an avalanche

skin and blood
spread over the iron bones

I have chosen you
my enchanted dichotomy
disappearing in glamour; escaping into secret groves

I kissed you
passing the gates; they closed behind me forever
bound to your ferns, your sunlit skin and your fox eyes

I came after you
to pry you from the blackened claws of fate and muses
beautiful enemies; immaculate souls dripping with darkness and light

I saved you
piercing the heart of the hungry beast
diving into the burning coals, painting my wounds with fire

[ how naive we were ]

I took you in
to find you covered in black feathers
Aiming at my heart with a sharp beak

[ slipping in with a spell and blood ]

Leira: we bite through the flesh and bone
a beautiful demise, and a hunger undone
predators of the midnight hour
for us the world is to devour

Lorian: the wind of changes desperately howls
we drag the corpse of the day behind us – our tempting fouls
taking in the stardust and swallowing the shine
pulling by the shivering nerves of time

Leira: lift me up, my king and in fire set
as we are the night; of the light bereft
sharing the pain and gnawing at the bones of winter
we are the flame, we’ll cover earth with cinder

Lorian: gods will tremble, and their hearts will scream
when we touch immortality from within
taking what’s ours, submitting their will
we are frozen shackles, we are darkness clear
we are the taste of the delicious kind
cruel winter’s chill

dance among the rotten fingers
a plaything for the death itself
spread your hems, cover the disease
blooming on your skin – tiredness sinks deeper
like a needle dosing sedatives

wild jig of the sleepless one
mute colors, torn spiderwebs
you embrace the night with trembling arms
seeing all sick patches, all hidden monsters
pale and weak, reminiscence of frail life

dance on the iris of the day
blind it, cut it through, sink into the pool of tears
we are decomposing alive
you – craving for the time to stop
me – so it never stopped again

kiss me with your blue lips
my beautiful undead
my stunning dream; I want to love your closed eyes
admire your silence
yet I long for your voice
breaking through the quiet stillness

she lives in a chamber of the dreaming cats
of stone whiskers, and marble fur
a witch of nine lives
a catnip dryad

she passes the corridors of the kneading paws
the wind sounds like a purr
it dances among the statues
rain flows in rivulets over obsidian claws

she hears their breath
she feels their beating hearts
a goddess of own paths
a spark of light in their sleepy eyes

sweet pills and bitter potions
spring water brews, winter kisses, soft moss
rain falling on my closed eyelids
[ black and grey, ashes and coal ]
crepuscular tears squeezed from under my lashes
silent slumber of senses, sleep of the restless thoughts
lachrymal dirge of stone birds; they seem distant and hollow
they watch { attentive mares }, their beaks under my skin, buried in my veins
[ it’s not over, it’s only bitter potions
an eternity slowed down; a numb reality ]

these woods are haunted
by the silent screams and whispering shadows

these woods are damned
drilled with darkness and filled with bitter honey of dreams

[ flickering lights among branches
fern flowers brushing your feet
muddy paths leading nowhere ]

bark drenched with red water
leaves drinking crimson rain
roots buried in the flesh and bones

[ we hunt you like wolves
an offering to our insatiable gods
latched delightfully to our stone hearts ]

my soft kisses left you bleeding
unprepared for my crimson love
daggers of my admiration dug deep into your craving flesh
penetrating pallid reminiscence of your heart

you beam under my caress, fairy lights growing under your skin
vermilion butterflies and ruby wisps
you drink own blood from the cupped hands
taking in the sweet horrors of my tender affection

my bride, my dream, my pale hellebore
treacly and tearful; salty lake of fading mortality
my touch left you as white as the snow
with your feathers – scattered among the frost-covered linen