I am happy to announce that my first poetry collection has been published! Ten years of poems, finally out in the world! It’s all quite personal, and I hesitated to include some of the poems, but in the end, they all belong on the map of my existence.
The book was just released, and I would really love for you all to order a copy and let me know what you think! Just click on the cover to order.
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
He wanders down the path for the not undeserving, to a place where sometimes is enough. A place where electricity surges and hums through his chest, as the yellow light filters down through the canopy, glimmering like a bright spirit who understands – one of the happy few.
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
Et que ce n’est pas chose étrange S’il en est tant que le loup mange. Je dis le loup, car tous les loups Ne sont pas de la mesme sorte : Il en est d’une humeur accorte, Sans bruit, sans fiel et sans couroux, Qui, privez, complaisans et doux, Suivent les jeunes demoiselles Jusque dans les maisons, jusque dans les ruelles. Mais, hélas. Qui ne sçait que ces loups doucereux De tous les loups sont les plus dangereux.
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
It came in rushes, then slowed – that longing for a place that wasn’t enough. Her skin glowed around his shadow, and with her ear to his heart, she let it pulse.
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
“It’s evening in the morning when he finds his dirty little shrine. She is surrounded by torches that coax the truth like he coaxes the sound that her tongue cannot make.”
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
“The forest is dark and damp, and she feels the soft, loamy earth underneath her. The night brings them fear, and awakening, and a language that has no home.”
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
“When he awakens her, they begin to build a confessional from all that they have. A sacred place, where words can be stripped bare. A sanctuary for thirst and ambition.”
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
Excerpt from Pour Mon Bzou:
“A blaze of epiphany. Like baneberries in dim light, he could not have imagined the whites of her eyes. Her stare caught his flaws, like fireflies in a bell jar, and his good fortune wandered off like a gypsy.”
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
Excerpt from The Dirty Little Shrine:
“She sees the hunger in his face, but not in his heart, because like the sound on her tongue, it has been hidden. “If my heart was pulled out of my chest and put, beating, in front of you, would you know what it wants?” he asks. Look how easily he betrays his heart for her, ripping it out of his chest like an Aztec god. She just nods as they sit in their dinner bath, and play like warriors, and he sees how her fire begins in her mouth. Like a dragon.
Photo of Elle Wonders by E. Andreas – Artwork by HenriAltersLife
C’est Lou qu’on la nommait
Il est des loups de toute sorte Je connais le plus inhumain Mon cœur que le diable l’emporte Et qu’il le dépose à sa porte N’est plus qu’un jouet dans sa main
Guillaume Apollinaire (1880 – 1918)
There are wolves of all kind.
I know the most inhuman.
My heart, the devil takes,
and deposits at his door,
is no more than a toy in his hand.