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𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍
The Aurelian

The Aurelian

As if you lived in-between the shallow breaths of the universe — no past and no future. Inhale, exhale.
Go to the profile of Vincent W. C.
Vincent W. C.

Your Vestige

Vincent W. C.

Love, Quinn — An Open Letter from Sophocles and Petrarch

Vincent W. C.

The Cat in the Flower Shop | bedtime

Vincent W. C.

Orders | tonight or never

Vincent W. C.

A Golden Slumber | fermata

Vincent W. C.

Rainburst | rage, rage against the light

Vincent W. C.
𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
unfamiliar hearts | hello, stranger

unfamiliar hearts | hello, stranger

to alight in the hands of another
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Vincent W. C.
St. George and the Dragon | your eternity

St. George and the Dragon | your eternity

He had slain the dragon — the man hollered with all his might. The pedestrians hurried by.
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Vincent W. C.
Breath becomes air | your eternity

Breath becomes air | your eternity

When he took the flight of stairs at sunrise, he was still a boy. When the reached the same level as the great bronze statue of Sir…
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Vincent W. C.
Parting Sickness | this faded interior

Parting Sickness | this faded interior

Like twirling heels on polished wood you go without leaving a trace
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Vincent W. C.
Now that the Organist is Gone | coalescence

Now that the Organist is Gone | coalescence

Everyone — he’s back! We stand to attention.
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Vincent W. C.
Unfriended | outlines

Unfriended | outlines

I ask her about the dinner. She says she is not hungry.
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Vincent W. C.
Little Satin Dress | outlines

Little Satin Dress | outlines

He says I am beautiful. So shall we find a room?
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Vincent W. C.
Another | outlines

Another | outlines

I swear by the saints — that I will tell her when the time is right.
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Vincent W. C.
Talk to Him | outlines

Talk to Him | outlines

‘You really should talk to him.’
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Vincent W. C.
love, Leander | all the signals I never caught

love, Leander | all the signals I never caught

My sweet — these nights in Abydos have been long and difficult.
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Vincent W. C.
I’m Going Under | heartache

I’m Going Under | heartache

Love can be a plastic bag or a chocolate wrapper or a sweaty hand.
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Vincent W. C.
Iphigenia | hush

Iphigenia | hush

They say I must die.
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Vincent W. C.
Where the Lost Girls Lie Rotting —

Where the Lost Girls Lie Rotting —

Lust, mania, and mass psychogenic illness in ‘Picnic at Hanging Rock’
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Vincent W. C.
The Voyage Out | farsight

The Voyage Out | farsight

it bores into you with a single murky eye. But you do not see.
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Vincent W. C.
Underneath the Luminous Night | farsight

Underneath the Luminous Night | farsight

But where are you ? — I ought to be with you.
Go to the profile of Vincent W. C.
Vincent W. C.
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