Things Hidden

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Art

Words & Pictures

A Queer Comic Story

Simpatico

Ceramic mug steaming

Warm, cinnamon-spiced.

Percussive pattering

On window-panes.

Wet leaves dancing,

Hyper-green against

Rolling grey.

Book in hand, cat in lap,

Pajama-clad and robe-wrapped;

These are my loves.

Inspired by a crazy dream I had last night:

Poets

Gunshots Under Golden Arches

And a Woman in Red

Calm

The grey-white clouds caress the sky, casting a diffuse light over the comparatively-violent, bright green foliage. The birds are quiet and the bees seem to scramble over the flowers while they still can. There’s a feeling of preparation, an inhale of breath, a calm. A sharp pain in the side of my head speaks to a low pressure spiral. The leaves shiver and dance. It is almost time.

Hazel slashed her borrowed sword through the spiny, overgrown vines, creating a jagged path to the crumbling castle. She was grateful for her secondhand armor–she could hear the thorns scraping angrily against the metal, longing to tear her flesh but unable to gain purchase. She wondered how many knights had failed simply because they could move no further without a steed (surely, no horse would endure the torture of a thousand tangled scratches) or blinded by forgetting to secure the visor of their helmet. Hazel’s visor may have been twisted in spots and rusting in others, but she had ensured it would hold against the terrors of the vines. She was thankful for the months of studying she’d ensured prior to her quest. She’d snuck into her father’s shop to repair her brother's weathered armor as best she could, and she appreciated her efforts had not been in vain.

Hazel was panting by the time she reached the other side of the vines and beheld the castle. She heard rustling behind her and turned to watch the foliage wrapping unnaturally around itself to fill the hole she’d made.

“Well,” she breathed, “that’s unnerving.”

In spite of her misgivings, she moved toward the castle. The keep was surrounded by a moat, and the only access an aging drawbridge that was shut tight. Hazel peered over the edge of the moat. There were no monsters lurking in the murky waters, but if she fell in with full armor, she would quickly sink to her death. She could see the remnants of metal within the muddy depths and glimpsed what may have been a bony arm. The water wasn’t deep, but it was enough.

Undaunted, Hazel pulled her crossbow from her back and checked the knotwork on the rope she'd tied to the bolt. She put her foot in the stirrup and pulled the string back to the catch, loaded the bolt, aimed, and fired. The bolt shot true and lodged itself firmly between two large stones at the top of the wall. Hazel yanked the rope as hard as she could, and when it held, she leaned back with her full weight. The bolt remained solidly in place. She wrapped the rope around her arm. This was a moment of truth–she could walk away now and avoid the possibility of a watery grave, or she could take a literal leap of faith. She closed her eyes and lept...

https://vocal.media/pride/the-knight-s-error

In Search of Lost Time

That madeleine moment,

Dunked in tea.

Precious fragments

Of the past,

Involuntary, unbidden,

Brought on by a certain, specific smell,

Triggering chains

(autobiographical)

Temporal, traumatic.

Recurrent research reactivates

To elicit positive emotional effects.

The bibliophile in the library,

Evoking borrowed memories.

Fade

As I scroll through pictures of

My past, I wonder

How many moments have faded into

Oblivion,

With no formal record to remind me.

I used to keep receipts

From good times spent

Before everything was so

Well-documented.

My family would tease

For the habit I'd picked up

Somewhere

While I reminisced

That trip to a fast-food restaurant.

I still keep mementos

No one else would understand,

A piece of ribbon, confetti, a

Dried-out rose,

Unable to let go

Of the memories,

The people that have left my life

Where only scraps remain.

What Happened Inside the Room (continuation of "From Across the Room" and "From Inside the Room")

Her face swung to the door as she heard multiple locks click from the outside. The man from the cafe entered the room, smiling his icy smile.

“Well, hello! You’re finally awake.” He said.

“What is this? What’s going on?” She said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, stepping closer to her, “You have no friends, no family, no lovers. No one to miss you if you disappeared.”

“I have friends,” she said, faintly.

“None that I saw. Are all of your friends online?”

She looked away, embarrassed.

“How sad. Don’t worry,” he took one last long step towards her, bridging the short distance between them, “I’ll be your friend. You don’t have to go back to that tiny, lonely apartment of yours. You can live here, with me! You can even have your own room all the way down here in the basement.”

“Why are you doing this?” She said as tears filled her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, feigned pity in his voice, “Because I can.”

Her heart rate increased as he climbed over her supine body. She waited until his position was just right. She jerked her leg, ripping the ropes from the bed, and slammed her knee directly into his crotch. With a guttural moan, he curled into a ball, helpless. She freed her other leg and both arms with a series of quick, decisive twists, then rolled both herself and the man over and off the bed. She had reversed their positions in a matter of seconds. She smiled as she pinned him to the floor. Her teeth glittered in the dim light.

“Too bad you weren’t paying very good attention while you were stalking me,” she purred. She relished the confusion in his eyes, “You didn’t choose me, sweetheart. I chose you. I know what you’ve been doing down here, and you’re never going to do it to another person.” Her teeth grew long and sharp as he watched in terror, and she plunged them into his neck. She guzzled the hot liquid that gushed from his veins. He thrashed against her inhumanly-strong grip, but his struggles became more and more weak as she drained him. Just before he became unconscious, she lifted her head and looked at him. Her dagger-like teeth dripped crimson.

“You know, I really should keep you alive for a while--torture you the way you tortured them,” she sneared at him, “But I’m not a monster.” Her scarlet lips returned to his throat. His body gave one final twitch, then lay motionless.

Sappho as Muse in Nazi Germany

Did you write for Sellie Engler?

Did you whisper in her ear,

Did you speak to Lotte Hahm

Things she would maybe need to hear?

.

Did you strike fear in the Stasi,

Of woman loving woman, 

An offence to the Nazis

They'd try to silence one by one.

.

Did you visit Violetta,

Dance with ladies in Berlin,

Were you there when love was shattered

Like the glass they trampled in.

.

Are you here with us this day

As all the terrors rise again,

Will you be there as we’re taken,

Give us strength to rise within.