at this time of year. as the days grow shorter. and the nights grow longer. and the air becomes more crisp. and the winds become more cruel. i like to read doyle. and dickens. and poe. i love the beauty of the victorian era in literature. i love the crispness of the language. i love how it mirrors the crispness in the air. i love christina rossetti's the goblin market and how it haunts. but delights. i love the brontë sisters' rich and entertaining novels. i love sheridan le fanu's in a glass darkly with its mystifying supernatural aura.
victorian literature is alive with an acute perception and understanding of the human element. and when i am outdoors less. and indoors more. i am most keen on unraveling everything human.
in the cold
in the dark
in the night
i am alone
with me
and i want
to know
just who
i am
