Ellen Kombiyil

A Burning Confession/Declaration/Exclamation

Angels can’t save me. I knifed Eulas it’s true. But before they string that noose Can’t I tell my side of the tale? Dogwood Avenue, four in the morning. Eulas said he won’t go. Fatboy Bobby said, No. Uh-uh. Git …

Posted in 52: INTERLOCUTOR | Tagged

The Pope’s Arms Are Dripping with Gold

after viewing the Barberini Tapestries   The pope’s arms are dripping with gold. Handed down palm to kindred palm, unseen behind a veneer (a garland of souls worn thin) of smoke-tinted color. I mean, what else could it obscure? Lovely …

Posted in 50: JACKPOT! | Tagged