THE SUCCUBUS, by Colin Heintze: the beat of wings, I pray an owl is cause enough to cower a woman-thing both fair and foul visits me each evening’s glower how many bargains, devil-struck how many hands that wicked fruit would pluck from serpent-coiled boughs to feel her breath against my ear to hold her warmly […]

FORTUNE-TELLER, by E.L. Schmitt:   A fold of painted cards across a rune-scribed palm. Inked in black and red, she tells his future nights. Across a pampered palm nails skitter, slip and show. She tells his future now in swirls of breath and song. Eyes skitter, slip and sting, blind in the fire-lit tent. Swirling […]