White as porcelain the way to the wilderness
And the leaves coloured silver and dark
Shadows are the thresholds that lead me
Through nomoi beyond the human realm

Stepping outside on our front porch close to midnight,
I stand at the top of our hill—only to see a white

Ring circling the moon—Selene, our moon goddess within—

Drawing her magic wand to make this luminescent shape—
I learn it’s called a Lunar Halo and seeing it means that

Rain or snow will be coming soon...

It was late in the evening and a chilly breeze rattled through his bones. He was rushing home from the corner store with a bag of groceries with his eyes on his feet, making sure he didn’t slip and fall. He should have looked up, but he didn’t. That’s when his body slammed into another, softer body and rebounded backward.

On a warm summer night in the middle of June Clara woke suddenly to the sound of children laughing outside her bedroom window. Wanting to play too she threw off her lilac sheets, raced to her closet, and pulled out her boots of the same color.

I have failed you, Goddess. The fate of heaven and earth cannot rest on my shoulders lest all creation follow me to my shallow grave. I dream of smoke, reborn of fire, I’d soon adjust to my newfound immortality as I’d take to the human custom of clothing.

Long ago and long forgotten in a forest buried deep in the old country, there once lived a young maiden. The story goes that she was sent to spend her life alone because of a curse placed upon her father. The man was unable to learn the truth about selflessness and sacrifice, so an enchantress took his only child in hopes to make him understand the value of those characteristics.

I mouthed out the syllables to the
rhythm of clacking keys

The page loaded—not quick
enough for me to ignore how stupid
the question looked, musing now manifested

Whenever my name comes up in Selene’s court, she giggles and lifts an ivory hand to barely obscure a waxing grin. “Muia, you ask?” she’ll muse coyly. “Why, I turned her into a fly. A wretched little girl, how irksome.”

I wasn’t in the habit of doing drugs. Alex, my boyfriend, was a bit of a stoner though. I smoked with him once in a while but didn’t really like it. Weed made my heart race, my appetite insatiable, my anxiety shoot off the charts. Or maybe that’s just how I felt most of the time, and the weed exacerbated it.

Our love was safest when the Jade Rabbit
came out
his light illuminating the dark sky.

It was then that we would trace our fingers
letting them linger
on the napes of necks and tips of lips.

Jaguar crone chases the sun
Her lover disappears beneath
Tides she controls

Slain by the fruitless sky, an athel tree slumbers with a groan. It’s only flower teeters in the cradle of an abandoned wasps hive. Though its life has lapsed, its roots continue to grow like varicose veins. Through and into the city, it reaches out, choking it.

“Live by the sun / Love by the moon”

A cheap rhyme I scribbled down
and tucked into the corner of my gown

Sentimentality sounds prettier
when she’s dressed in satin and lace

Night had settled in by the time Hằng finished hauling in the last cardboard box filled with her belongings into the apartment. Hands on her hips, she let out a huff as she surveyed her new home. The studio apartment, with its chalky white walls and simple hardwood flooring, left its personality up to her. 

Have you heard the tale of The Horseman?
A story of love and of loss;
A tale of sorrow and vengeance,
That came at a terrible cost.

I can tell you the tale of The Horseman,
For he will rise this night.
You may, in fact, be a witness
To the Horseman’s appalling delight.

There in the shade under a large birch tree,
He sat and waited for his lover 
Even through rain or shine or slight breeze 

Would he hold out for his other. 
Over the course of many years, 
Rendezvous were frequent. 
Love was a continuous music that filled their ears,
Dissonance never apparent. 

I know our relationship 
Didn’t start off  
The best way 
With me sweeping you off your feet 
Literally 
Sorry about that 
Blame it on your dad 
I do 

Beware of what is done

Beware the shadow cast against the sun

Beware the snake in the nest that devours your love

Beware the uncertainty that splits what was one… 

Beware of what will come

Your name takes shape in wary whispers
Never spoken aloud
For fear that you would devour their voices
And bite the screams from their throats
While you watch them in between
The jaws of death

She didn’t know where she was or how she got there. All she knew was she fell asleep in a tent in the forest and woke up in a bed in an old house that didn’t seem to have any occupants. The house was covered in dust and old cobwebs, dead bugs littered the floors, and an aching feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach. She meandered through the house, afraid to call out, hoping her footsteps were as quiet as she thought they were.