Reliquary Stories

I can feel it, we cycle through endless power shifts. Like tectonic plates deep below the skin, commanding our bones, your tremors are slow at first. They are a warning, a silent parting that invites me inside, tilts our frail axisuntil you've locked around, claimed me as your own. Something powerful flows through me then, ancient bridges crossed, the territory where lovers take each other inthe oldest of rituals. The ach...