m.t. whitington


A force majeure, female catalyst, futurist, polemicist, psychonaut, epistemologist. Ruminating between the lines with a clarion call and extreme unction.  A global writer with southern roots.


Rape of Vellamo!

Rape of Vellamo!

Steely cold daggers

Cascade beneath waves,

Lisp as thick as the tongue,

 

In Agent Provocateur,

 

Covered in blue seafoam.

Tall and slender she caves,

Parting skin in a cold plunge.

 

Drowning in violet

On a board an inch thick,

Torture truth taking pains,

 

Sink! sink, sink,

 

Tied up at the foot of her name,

Ribbons fly on fragile winds

Forced to consort

With a beard of moss

Reflection in waterfall.

Face on tap brushed in shiny steel

Shivering horripilation,

 

Flesh! flesh, flesh

 

Eye to Eye with death,

Rape of Vellamo,

benchmark the list of goddesses

taken before the violet hour.

 

Selling Notions

Selling Notions

Clover Patch

Clover Patch