Joseph A. Pinto

author of horror & poetic prose

PALACE In this darkness I have longed, yet only now do you approach beneath my canopy of sentinels. Wordless, though I have screamed centuries for you. Guileless, though now indeed you have been warned. I shall devour your pretenses; leave shorn your bravado. I am your beast, and under granite columns shall you be reborn. …

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SWORN  I thought you would follow, but the willow reed swallowed me whole At least that’s the excuse you sold… I’d been too busy tightening bolts Preparing for traffic that would never come. On the opposite end of nothing now I’ve teetered upon this sharp edge far too long Waiting for that willow reed to …

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Refuge; before these iron gates I tremble. Words, long forgotten, muttered upon this unforgiving draft. Weary fingers graze lips; memory languishes. A song cries. Lost, what once remained. Balm to my wounds, these iron gates I clutch. To twist this handle, to enter into that which I have denied myself… A thousand angels mock my …

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MOLD I saw you there; in the half-light of candle you seemed a flickering wraith but the pruned expression with which you regarded me only served to extinguish me further. I wished to reach out, to reshape the face I once recognized but clay only hardens if left to serve testament to air. © Copyright …

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HEARD Silence; a river running through my head; train cries in the distance its solace muffled much the way I am unable to find my tongue. Fog clouding the window—it’s unbearable but the droplets streaking the glass expose highways, crossroads the likes of which I’ll never have the nerve to explore. Still in my head …

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