Literature
flowers for caligula
i. flowers for caligula
they were fire-eyes that looked away from me and threatened the diabolical glow of the half-moon. they were pearl fingers, on two sets of broken hands that held and crushed my own, which were made of sand and fancy. they were red and yellow flowers that had settled into his hair, in his eyes, in his cold hand that spun the stems between two incandescent fingers.
we wanted to flood the world with wine. caligula and i, drinking the gold blood of babylon and plucking like grapes the beating hearts of men who had watched their children burn in centre squares. i remember, seeing the fear in his eyes, the way he used to bl