Fiction, Poetry, The Slick Furies


They bust the rusted meadows gate, wait the darkness for the dawn.
They drink the stars, try to curse the moon, they wander on and on. They steal away the slipstream sleep and purge the soul with fire. 
They promise everlasting life and all that you desire.

 ~Teri Skultety, 
 January 22, 2012

This poem became the beginning of
my first full length novel.