Máni & Sunna run through the heavens,
just ahead of the wolves who will one grim day catch them.
They can expect nothing better than this.
But o' how they shine.
I run ahead,
the teeth of my dying father
and my dying marriage
that bloody my heels into sunset.
But o' how I burn,
brilliantly on my course.
Gothic Journalism. Literary Reviews. Heathen Cyberleaves. Nocturnal Investigations. Sincere Retrostalgia. Umbral Insights. Fearless Confessions. Recollective Exposé. Nightmarish Cyberprose. And a Love of Words.
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