The Lost Sign

It is all this miscommunication we share.
I don’t speak your language,
We haven’t learnt to trust yet.
I should study the charts
Or see the future in stardust,
While I’m looking for an infallible guide
Between the heart and the soul,
Amongst all
The sigils and runes,
False prophets, false starts,
Magic and bones.

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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The Spell

For those of you that haven’t found their way to my short story blog – here’s the latest tale for you…

On the Broken Road

photo credit: Vortex via photopin (license) photo credit: Vortex via photopin(license)

I whisper the words of the spell in your ear and the magic changes my words to thoughts in your mind. Synapses fire, small electric charges flood you as images paint your consciousness with thought and desire. The words of my spell compel you to act, hands fumbling to undo the buttons on my shirt, your fingertips gently brush against my chest.
You are no longer you; you are now an extension of me, as our lips come together as one.

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

photo credit: Till The End Of Time... via photopin (license) photo credit: Till The End Of Time… via photopin(license)

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In Flames

photo credit: Fire via photopin (license)

photo credit: Fire via photopin (license)

Images dance in the flames,
Dreams coalesce
And disappear.
A bead of sweat
Drips down my spine
From all the heat in the room.
The fire speaks
As the logs crack, split open
And catch light. Speaking
Morse code,
Repeating the phrases
In the discarded letter
Burnt in the fire, never sent.
Repeating words in the flames
I’ve never spoken to you.

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.