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Dark Heart
By: Edgar Ahlberg

Sweet and forbidden, cherished and regretful
my desires beat within my dry-rotted ribs.
My good intentions impale themselves
on every blade of misfortune.

The stars—each one dreaming—stay cradled in my skin,
every cell a tiny light.
I sparkle with throbbing brilliance.
My past sorrows, embraced and embedded in my flesh,
set forth the scent of sweet carrion

Sated, but despairing, I lay in dew covered fields as the wet dirt seeps into my skin.
My cracked heart, made of glass,
urges me to set fire to the hellish and beautiful desires and
scrape away the crackling, shining flesh.
But that would leave me trembling in the cold fire of purity--
a nightmare in itself.


About the Author

Besides bearing the distinction of assistant editor for TWoM, Edgar dabbles in ghost hunting; studies religion’s role in Fantasy and Science Fiction; travels to Sweden to visit his 98-year-old grandmother, a font of great story ideas; and helps manage a bowling alley.
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