Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
RIDING HOOD What am I Seeking In you Dear Wolf? Not your tail Not your teeth Honey I want red For my whites Stripes on beasts I need flesh On my skin Pregnancy A full bag Of cries Words Sure Continue reading Riding Hood by Emmanuelle Rabu
LIGHTS ON You called me once My dearest You became My fatherest Poisoned love apples Made you confused Breathless Wordful We know mirrors are fake In my rewritten fairytale But we need it that way Snow White as a male Continue reading Lights On by Emmanuelle Rabu