Torsade Literary Space Haunt of Thieves: The Wayfarer
Haunt of Thieves
Book Two
II.
The Wayfarer
Where miles-long grow embattled limbs
Above the sea, salt-hardened, east-laden
Shading pathways wound through sand and scoured stone
Every stone an anvil shape, each tangled crown
Untossed by wind
The wayfarer, led in hunger by a ghost
Stares aloft to see a figure clad in spider webs
Rigid with the stories of the dead
He that approaches tears his garments
Threads of charred flesh as he feels them
Whip-ends of deliverance
Peace
That, he tells this mute, this sage
Draws hands now gloved in silk
Away. Beggar’s hands that leave
The seer undisturbed
“Yours is a lie as well”
The splintering of an ocean’s iron weight
Fills this grove with a searing mist
He sinks in the lee of a seated form
A gust, and from the branches
A filament filters down
Haunt of Thieves: The Wayfarer
Book One
The Bride
(2017, Stephanie Foster)