Emrys Ambrosius
Copy and Paste worked first time. Super easy. Use your google sign in. Part I: Pride is a Syrup Drowned open in an ocean of my own sound, bathed in the broth of textured air, compression and release. Deep in the cave under the Tower, the dragons contort and writhe against eachother, red against white. Build the tower, watch it tumble down. Build the tower, watch it tumble down. Pick up the bricks, repeat. Thunder heartbursts the inside of the hill. Red vs. white. Eyes flash in the dark. Phalanx of scales reflected off the black water. Arpeggiated glyphs sing the night alive. Roar, rip. Dim flashes. The work done in the day lies in pieces by the next dawn. Stones scattered in the sighing grass. A ghost of a shadow of a forgotten pinprick on the riled skin of heart. Sandals a wreck. Fetch me a boy with no father. Bring his blood to the soil. Part II: Death’s Honeyed Laughter “Sure, my throat ...