prose

Santos de Sampaguitas by Alyssa Wong is a short fantasy story in two parts and you can read the full thing at the link. It's pretty short, sweet, and simple, but I really like it for the way it's told - it's lovely reading.

No, says the god. It has no eyes in its empty, hollow face, but somehow it manages to look away. Not any more. Your mother is dead.

The waking dream shatters. I bolt upright in my bed, drenched in cold sweat. The dead god is gone.

poetry

I don't think I've put this up before though I did have a quote from this poem as a journal title once, but I don't even care if I have, because Eurydice by H.D. is always perfect, no matter what. This is but an excerpt of this amazing poem:

At least I have the flowers of myself,
and my thoughts, no god
can take that;
I have the fervour of myself for a presence
and my own spirit for light;

and my spirit with its loss
knows this;
though small against the black,
small against the formless rocks,
hell must break before I am lost;