May 10, 1999


Undertones of doubt drip like wax following in a steady stream until the wick can no longer provide heat. Multi-colored spirals cover the carpet in whole hiding originality that was once dirt brown. Slay the devil for he hides behind shower curtains waiting for the water to boil. Prayers were meant for closed doors he chants in a breeze that brushes by your neck. I have been fooled again. Skies turn to ash and sit with patience waiting for gravity to arrive. Whispers from the west settle into my ear foretelling a tale yet to be told. “Her mountains now look to the sea while the sea continues to reach for the sky.”

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist