Author: David Shipley
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Waking
The desert heat held us apart, Two strangers forced together By circumstance and sand. The traders’ stop behind us, We hurried on. Ahead, an oasis We’d heard of From travelling poets; Soft, wet soil Darkened by life. Waters to gorge on and Lose our memories Or bathe in and become immortal. The moon…
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Wax
Icarus was soaring at the moment of his fall. Wild-eyed ape-godling Rising to glorious damnation. His demesne below; Naked frothing flesh Jewl’d with a thousand fertile isles Where many fruits grow From a single tree. Not enough for this creator’s son, Who dared to rise and strike at heaven. Gaining, in apotheotic descent Immortal…