on that brink where ice
meets night sweats; horrors leap from
untold truths waiting…

by the bank that edge of night
is where wizards spells work deep

courage is lost when
doubt rises to starless heights
where names mean nothing…

Cain Paeniteo sat at a small round table in the bar a county over from where his boarding house was located. He’d dressed in thrift store bell bottoms – at least they were clean and held tightly to his wad of dollar bills for the topless dancer. He knew he wasn’t to blame for any of the Seedsmen family deaths or his best friend. He thought about that edge of the night where you will find me… when Marilyn invaded his dreams.

Continue reading at Jules Pens Some Gems…