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A night before Ebony
Ebony’s shadowed legs followed like bone ivory music notes.
Umbrellas at dawn
No longer will the vampires mourn when each and everyone’s turn
Becomes an endeavour
Becomes closer to a pawn of the bloodless, pastry Underworld.
Fangs serve no required love
Unless
For the hearts that break
fastly
Under the tombstones engraved with dear forlorn amours.
Vials and trials make for complicated aisles.
Stephen Hawking’s shadow couldn’t blacken the suns holy masquerade without a tentative backhanded smile.
Flatulent legs pass an accordion player drowning out the tears of the past crystal nachts denial.
The fish bone corset of his lover – bygone
Weaved into a weathered, once feathered basket to uphold her now skeletal dignity,
A patched-up virgin awoken
A red sealed cockerel
His scarlet fever only breaks
out at night.
Nothing makes sense.
Not the severed maimed gingerbread men
Nor the black pudding
Nor the books written after the King’s night well spent.
Those paltry pawns of Christmas past climbed up the stairs on a general’s stare.
A goose-step march without all the trimmings
Merely a one-armed procured letter bitten off a one-off affair.
The traitor of Ebony’s moonlight dalliance wasn’t in his devilish dance on his journey
It was in the faces of his pseudo, mutilated, unvaccinated bastard offspring
Of each adultress, he gazed upon with an unassuming leer.
The crypt
I’m craving for a time when the snow would level me out
From the bathtub bottled gin
That takes 20 minutes of focusing the mind to open
Fatigued
I need a lie down before I put the bicarb salts to indulge my sins
I sit here dying my hair
I don’t want to disintergate this mortal skin
I know won’t compromise
The equations
They won’t grant me a dividend.
In the positivity I feel when my nonsense brings me more clarity
No disparities
The urge to give in to that initial rush.
Knowing that skiing the slopes of the cold rush
will end in a broken arm
A splinter to embarrass my ego
Show me up in a self-delusional femur propped up in a white cast in a sling.
Won’t humour my smile or bodily akin.
Write to recover
Write to reform
No, reaffirm I’m better without my foes
I used to call my brethren l.
I’m better
Now
I’m better now
Don’t ruin it
For brief a 30 second thought I sniffed out as win-win
Situation
Within
Actions become our past
Experiences
The future can make it count without losing an ounce of my heart to the demons of the crypt.
I won’t sin.
A book for the inner child
What a wonderful Christmas present 🎁 for those beautiful souls who make our existence more meaningful.
This debut novel from Affinity triangle follows a young protagonist girl called Sith ( Peace)& her father Gaol ( Love).
They go on a journey across the Moors to find the young girls mother, Firinn ( Truth) her mother’s lover.
In each chapter, Sith and Gaol come across many creatures and entities who represent different things.
The premise of this book is about mental & spiritual growth.
The first 100 books 📖 will can be personalised and signed by the author
All books will be dispatched from the 16th in time for christmas, or use coupon LOCALCOLLECTION to remove P&P & arrange collection with me in Hebden Bridge/Mytholmroyd area through Affinity triangles’s Etsy Shop, also from 16th)