tops 2

bottoms 2

sisters of colour

sisters of colour

judy ruby runs a red river down her thigh

she is a woman and a woman must bleed

that's the truancy of life

fake or forgetful

her eyes are blue

her mood is green

the dark mist that circles her death

is a purple cloak that hides the night

judy janet

natalie nicole

sasha

sasha

you wear a black veil

audrey

audrey

you wear a white dress

s. sparling

music to make you shiver

music to make you fuck

bride of the devil

mr. soul

Hercules

Labour (I)

copper like a drip of a grecian spear

on fire, the womanly scripture

voice of a thousand early birds

she is looking at you

expectant of the future

with no eyes but the eyes for you

and no lips

but the ones that posses a hunger

to never be alone

s. sparling

Labour (II)

amazon of the sea you have neutralized me

I am a conquering hero of the tomb

threw cat gut and whirlpools out to feed

like an eternity I am a password

so I am a saint.

god of so many.

so I can heal you

with my hands...

it's been light out here for days now

there does not seem to be a sun

just green and the colour

to haunt all lives

s. sparling

Shamania

there in the neptune of the sky

a thousand women circle with their hands in each other's

and together, as one, they squat and urinate on the earth

there, where the equality of a thousand men prepare themselves

and each shit into a copper plate

offering a burning sacrifice to the heavens

saying: hey, we are feelings

we are food for the gods

hunting for the sweet eggs

becoming mirrors in that great green grasping silence

that was the age of anguish

where the forlorn philosopher fed himself a rail

it was only the flicker of thirsty yellow lights that called to him

and bathed him in their mellow arm

so sleep came into the caves of thought

furnishing all with a single scarlet mask of death

it was for the fingers

a separate love for each digit that wandered alone

in between the clefts of flesh

digging for water

or whatever else

it was for the fingers

swatting at black flies who are bloated on death

the only natural death left in this

the age of passwords

speak me a shibboleth

they left for me two red pennies of unlucky virtue

and the skeleton of a sparrow not yet dry

but moist with the limitless nutrition of angels

it is june and it has been raining for days

my dog looks up to me from between her regret

I feed myself a rail and continue

s. sparling