black hills cabal
Antimatters of the heart.
Poems.
“…Thanatos knit us
We woke into folds of the dark man’s cape
It was not unuterine; we groped around a while
It was not as lonely as i’d expected
The blade of the reaper’s scythe was a bridge and together we slid over
Below us an alabaster river flowed in both directions
Sweetheart dawn must be rising— see the glow?
My love i hear birds calling
I hear birds”