Licorice shadows with Minty toungue branches have strecthed like the
infared bindings that fuse us, twixt fate and the last god you spoke to,
with nothing to say but the in-action of pharoahs and anscestors tokens
that heirloom our meaning and pass on our sins like the malotoff
flames that pour from a wine bottle, a liquorice wine bottle.
--Tannen Dell is a writer from Tigard, Oregon. He is currently working on manuscripts and poetry collections when he is not reading submissions for Indigo Rising Magazine or at school for an MFA in creative writing and philosophy. Because of this, he loves drinking coffee, which has virtually replaced the water content in his physiology. He hopes you enjoy his work.