Victors Heart Chimes

Fire on the Moor Fickle flicker of desire runs through me, turning my body electric. Static‑shocked fingers pulse—words heard and formed resound with simple eloquence, harmonious and buoyant. Fickle flicker of desire flames out, turning my blood tepid. Stillness sets in. The excitement settles, chaos quells. The body, cold and heavy, awakes from dreams in technicolor turned lurid limbo. Fickle flicker of desire, once ravenous and hot, feasted itself into collapse. Without the flame that once sustained, I roam a dark, foggy moor, seeking whence I came— this sweet, now sordid journey. I traipse without grace; heaps of slick mud clump to my heel, turning every pace into strained clomps. Fickle flicker of desire— I wade through misty dark in search of remnants of spark to once again enliven this homeward arc. Wanton wisps of shelved personae push and pull my unsteady frame into choppy motion. Oh misty moor, your strange hints and glints of displaced light make play of things nevermore...

Frankenstein Mornings Morning breaks. The rays of light jut in. Sweet, bold flavor of coffee lingers on my lips.  I set to read, parse through words, break narrative into spirit-sustenance to interrupt the dread I feel at light piercing through night’s cold uncertainty, now hollow day. Fog floats, and floaters jump, making words full of motion and haze. I focus through. Inner rich dialogues of Frankenstein’s impassioned missteps mirror my own. Self-directed, scalding igneous gestations roil and stew in my spirit, bearing contempt’s weight. Joys of daybreak— the meeting of another day with longing’s sweet anticipation, a pleasure out of reach. Early morning focused direction, absorbed into the life I’m building— purpose, passion, pursuit— splinters in the wake of nighttime fears. Ghosts still bedside upon waking seldom scatter. The day begins with fatigued eyes, mind a mess from frantic carousel spirals. Day’s call to action summons me. From a weary and dizzy spirit, I fi...