Category Archives: Uncategorized

Snap

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

It was the cold snap of the glyphic branch that awakened him to the grave misunderstanding between fall and winter and the nature of dreams unlived.

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Sorcery

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

The false portal, merely window dressing, appeared in retrospect, long after the floating disc of arclight had guided her past the wraith, and teeth of smoke, a daring exit into fathomless depths.

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Wound

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

After the first wounding, a necessary course of retrieval was set. She entered herself, a ritual sacrifice to the gods of trespass. She wouldn’t move on until every single pore radiated symmetry undisturbed.

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Mystery

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

Because we never met, you will forever and always remain the fretted girl behind double crossed scratched glass square rooted Brooklyn train station blues, the soundless frozen fragment of a life running on and outward bound.

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Ballad

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

In a realm of plastic fable, and reversal of lore, the hooded naif, after years of stalking the shadow of the beast, has him within arm’s length, preparing to reach in and retrieve the swallowed moon, the bones of a … Continue reading →

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Ashprint

Posted on August 9, 2017 by John Biscello

Out of the ashes arose nothing recognizable. Embers, in memory, projected a blank sheaf of light to cover the loss.

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Canticle

Posted on July 26, 2017 by John Biscello

The stars indelibly printed on obsidian reams of sky, a course in illuminated text by which we redeem the necessary canticle to cite a gilded theme.

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Grapple

Posted on July 25, 2017 by John Biscello

To constantly grapple with the past feels like strangling a mannequin, your hands sacrificed to false intimacy and the empty reaping of love’s labor by unreal standards.

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Citrus

Posted on July 23, 2017 by John Biscello

  Upon a citrus-infused sky, bright and sorry, the dance of acidic vapors and serpentine ravels, assuming the burden of a faceless woman, basking

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Touch

Posted on July 20, 2017 by John Biscello

It is the quiet history of touch, tendered through years of symmetry and fable, a radiant pulsing in the spaces between fingers, holy derived, charging us to mercy and enclosure.

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