Nocturne
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I Was Dead the First Time
They buried me crooked the first time. Head tilted west, no light. I remember, because I didn’t stay gone. Now I walk again same skin, new pulse, But the same ghosts are crawling under my fingernails. Ezra. That's what they call me this time. The boy who doesn't blink. A boy who mutters riddles. A boy who draws coffins better than faces. My mother avoids my eyes. She says they’re too old fo…
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Bishop's Daughter
They said I was born into light. Bathed in prophecy. Raised in scripture, dressed in silence, taught that holiness is a woman who never hungers. But no one warned me what it felt like to be touched with intention. To be looked at like I wasn’t just a body, but a place. Somewhere he wanted to worship. He came in the night. Not loudly just a knock on my soul I couldn’t unhear. His voice wasn’t deep…
