"Three of hearts," the demon says. He's lounging on Joseph's bed, deck of cards in his hands and shirt riding up over his stomach. He glances up, fangs flashing in a bright grin as if he can feel ... [+]
Daring squawk towards the dashing object
Why are you angry at something far away?
You won’t reach it
It’s far
Too quick
Rejection, failures, goals out of reach
I wail for successes to come to me
My dreams are far
People are too quick
I can’t reach the prize
What about my own wings?